


How Pneumonia Stopped a Stubborn Alchemist from Descending into Villainy

by Absolutely_Barbaric, RimaPichi



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Digital Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Illness/injury, Pneumonia, Poisoning, Slow recovery, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22902253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolutely_Barbaric/pseuds/Absolutely_Barbaric, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RimaPichi/pseuds/RimaPichi
Summary: Thank you RimaPichi for this lovely commission!After Rapunzel turns down his request for help, Varian returns to Old Corona only to find his father petrified in amber. Devastated, he vows to find a solution himself at the risk of his own health, having already taken ill from the raging blizzard outside. He overworks himself into collapse and is subsequently found by Rapunzel, Eugene and Cassandra, who decide to make things right by looking after him, even with tensions running high between them.In other words: AU where Varian doesn't go 0-100 and become a villain, and the force of logic is (somewhat) observed because there's no way he ran around in a blizzard by himself and didn't come back at least a little sniffly.
Comments: 257
Kudos: 961





	1. Work it Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This amazing art was drawn by co-creator RimaPichi! Check out their insta with the same handle <3 New artwork will be added as it's finished so be sure to check back in!

_I can do this._

For the past twelve hours now Varian had been telling himself that. Not that he didn’t wholeheartedly believe in his abilities, there was no doubt about that, but at a certain point, talking himself up was the only thing he could do to keep himself going. After what he had been through, and what he was going through now, it was only natural that he needed a mantra to cling to when there was nothing else left.

It all began earlier that night—he supposed it was daylight by now—when this unrelenting hell began. When, after putting his heart on the line for help and having it stomped on, he made it back to Old Corona through a raging blizzard only to find out that the worst he’d feared had come true. Good, maybe clumsy intentions gone out of control, abandonment from one of the only friends he even really had, it all came to head as he had returned too late with too little, and was met with the face of his grave mistake. There in front of him was his father Quirin, petrified in an impenetrable amber encasement of Varian’s own creation—he would never forget the stomach-dropping sensation of reality crashing into him like a bucket of ice cold water to the face, and of the loneliness just as unforgiving weighing him down to the ground as he cried endlessly for no one to hear. It tore a part of his soul out, and even after he finally pulled himself up and dried his tears, that sensation clung to him and sunk into his bones as he made a promise he already knew was biting off more than he could chew: he was going to free his father at all costs, no matter what he had to put at stake. His soul, his sanity, his health…

It wouldn’t be long before Varian had to prove the sacrifices he was willing to make. The many hours he’d just spent in the worst blizzard Corona had seen in centuries were all a blur to him, though he could still feel the after effects. He was simply too busy to take a warm bath or change out of his clothes, or even so much as take his shoes off, sloshy with snow as they were. How could he be bothered? There was no time to lose, not if he was the only one now that his father could depend on. At first, adrenaline was running so high that the numbness in his fingers and toes hardly bothered him. He would rub his hands together while he watched for results or tuck them under his arms if he wasn’t preoccupied, but it was to him a minor annoyance that didn’t get in his way. And though he began to develop a worsening cough with each passing hour, it took a good long while before he even spared a thought to it; just to remind himself to cover so he wouldn’t contaminate anything. By hour eight his knees were getting wobbly and his focus was drifting, but undeterred as ever, he poured himself over his blueprints, swearing what had become the only barrier between himself and giving up: _I can do it. I can do it._

Now the strike of the turning hour on the clock rang inside his skull like someone had sounded a high-pitched tuning fork as hard as they could right in his ear. The first few hours flew by without hardship, and a decent amount of data had been reaped from his experiments—that was to say, nothing was working. Which was still data nonetheless. But after so long of his best efforts consistently leaving him right where he pitifully began, it became clearer and clearer just how utterly _ill_ he felt.

Up until now he had been perfectly content ignoring his chills getting worse and worse by the second. Then an unexpected shudder caused him to drop a perfectly good test tube of high-potency criotine that almost burned a hole through his pant leg, and he could no longer say he was unbothered. Still, not one to be fazed by lab mishaps, this was carelessly remedied by tying a loose blanket over himself like a cloak, and he was either too stubborn or too out of it to realize how this half-baked solution was doing more harm than good by dragging around his feet and causing him to trip left and right. Soon he even decided to give up on detailing the results of his many failed trials in writing altogether because holding a pencil was a challenge, and reading over his scribbles afterwards was impossible. Unfortunately, committing it to memory was no good either. Varian found himself mixing the same unstable compounds and getting the same explosion in his face, building frustration in the pit of his stomach until he felt ready to explode himself if he wasn’t too tired to do it. In any other circumstance, he would have been happy to take a nap and clear his head, come back to it all later with a fresh mind. _This was his father_ . He couldn’t break his promise like a certain someone did to him. He couldn’t waste time napping. He just…had to work a little harder, that was all. A different chemical reaction, some new data, _anything_ might lead to a breakthrough. There was no time to rest. He was so close…probably.

“Come on, Varian…” he panted, steadying himself against a wooden table that teetered under his full weight. That normally undetectable rocking motion alone had brought on a terrible nauseous spell. Resting his aching neck to the side, he caught an unwanted glimpse of his reflection in a sheet of scrap metal; the hair he took pride in was a sweaty snow-dampened mess about a shade or two duller than its original color, and a rash of feverish red splotches burned across his nose and cheeks. Undaunted (so he convinced himself), he swallowed rather painfully before pushing the sheet out of his sight, then straightened up his back with all the determination he could muster in his condition. Sadly, determination couldn’t stop him from caving right back over when he was hit by chills so strong he thought he’d never stop shivering. “Come on, you got this. It’s all gonna be over soon—“ He cut himself off with dry, congested coughing that he was frankly too exhausted to lift his arm up to cover anymore. The fit racked his small body and left him seeing stars, the feeling of floating in a sea of blackness bleeding into him—hopeless, answerless blackness with no end in sight. “You…You got this…”

He ached all over. Every muscle was sore and stiff from the cold, but if he had to choose, he preferred that to the contradictory sensation of fire under his chin and over his cheeks like someone was holding a match to them. He gave himself a break just to stand there and collect himself, and soon found out that the longer he allowed himself to rest his eyes, the more he wanted to just crawl into bed and sink into sleep. So with a deep breath that came back out coughing and hacking, he forced himself back over to the corner table to ponder his blueprints, or more fittingly to stand there and pretend he could read. Ruddiger weaved through his ankles wildly, pipping and squeaking only to be pushed to the side by Varian’s foot. “I don’t have time to play right now,” he chastised through several attempts to clear his throat. Sadly, it only made his progressing cough worse. “Can’t you see this is _important?_ ” In response, Ruddiger chomped at his ankle. Varian let out a loud yelp, but before he could give the little raccoon delinquent what for, he took a glance down at the ground where Ruddiger was running about and discovered the true intent behind his theatrics. 

The floor beneath him was shaking—it actually took him aback for a moment that he hadn’t noticed at all until now. He supposed that while his own entire body was shaking from fatigue, it was easy enough not to feel it from an external force. Across the room he found that the boiler was madly steaming and rattling like a volcano, fit to erupt any moment from overload and destroy his entire lab, himself with it; more importantly, all his hard work with it. He had to have left it on for _hours_ at this point, too caught up in desperation and maybe a little stubbornness to see. Frantically, he made for the handle to shut it off but he tripped on the oversized blanket hanging over his shoulders, crashing onto the floor beside it with just enough strength left to reach up his trembling arm and force the switch down. The power exerted alone to simply _pull_ brought an overwhelming nausea up into his throat that he forced away by screwing his eyes shut tight. It didn’t help that even through his gloves, the heat that radiated off the machine was so intense he could have sworn he was holding onto pure fire. As the boiler slowly began to cool and the tremors came to a stop, Varian raised himself just above his knees and watched the sweat slide down his forehead to his chin and then silently drip onto the ground, a defeated pattern of droplets that stared back at him, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he didn’t only just now break into a sweat. Ruddiger timidly padded over to his side and was met with Varian’s glassy bloodshot eyes, his bottom lip quivering.

“What am I supposed to do…?” he whispered, hiccuping and wiping uselessly at the tears rolling down his cheeks—they felt strangely cool against his skin. He could work himself to death and it wouldn’t be enough. By the looks of it, this was beyond him; how it broke his heart to admit that, for there was no one left to turn to but him. “What the _hell_ am I supposed to…D-Dad’s gonna be…”

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours now he had been working nonstop, wracking his brain for a solution, hadn’t even had the time _still_ to change out of his snow-soaked clothes and honestly, he didn’t care when he was too numb to feel how cold he was anymore. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted desperately to go to bed and wake up to all of this being solved somehow. But he couldn’t, and it wouldn’t. Little by little he felt the weight of his despair dragging him back to the ground just like the moment when he first found his father. It thickened like tar in his chest but to cry at all was agony. The simple act of inhaling made him feel like he was going to drown. Some part of him was aware finally that he had indeed fallen ill, but he had never observed any cold or flu in his past to be quite so _painful_. That could only lead him to conclude that this was no ordinary cold or flu, that this was beyond something so trivial, which was quite the discouraging news considering the ordinary cold or flu alone could put his frail body out of commission for days. Dejected and alone, he started to relinquish himself to the pain, laying his blazing forehead to the floor and letting endless hacking coughs shred his throat when he felt a voice calling out to him.

“ _Varian,_ ”

“ _Dad?_ ”

Varian pushed himself up onto his weak, jello-like legs and through his vision full of swirling spots he saw his father, looking directly at him through the orange tint and moving his lips.

“Varian, you _must_ get me out of here. _Please,_ there’s not much time.”

Helplessly, Varian stumbled from the table over to the hallucinated figure before him. He pressed his hands over the maddening wall of amber that separated them like it might somehow have mercy and bend to let him through—never such luck. Shame nearly brought him to his knees, and maybe a dizzy spell on top of it, as he was looked to for the first time by his father for a solution and had none.

“I know, Dad, I-I’m trying, I just…Nothing’s _working_ …” Anguish chipped at his voice as he rubbed tears from his face with his forearm. “Rapunzel won’t help, a-and I think I might’ve gotten sick from being outside but—but—Dad, why did you lie to her about the rocks? What is that note in your hand? What—“

“Don’t give up on me, son. You can’t rest now. You’re the _only one_ who can do this.”

His father’s cold words silenced him. As sweat rolled down his chin and pittered to the icy floor below, he took a short breath, let it stammer in his chest and eased it out, closing his eyes tight to gather any of the remaining courage he might have left inside him. If there was any to salvage, when he felt like he was in pieces.

“ _I_ _-I can do it…_ ”

He had to. No matter the cost, no matter the frustration, no matter the sudden strike of chills that made him want to huddle up in a blanket and just lay there for a second or the stabbing pain in his chest when he breathed. The hurt from being abandoned by someone dear to him was fresh enough in his heart, and there was no way he could forgive himself if he abandoned his family the same way. Set in his resolve, Varian turned to face the chaotic spread of blow torches and chisels and powerful reagents scattered across desk and floor, and though it was taking everything in him just to keep himself standing and conscious, he got back to work. Or at least, he was doing _something_. Whether that something could be considered productive or just his body acting on senseless autopilot…well, it was senseless autopilot.

Like a layman miming a scientist without knowing the first thing about basic alchemy, he began to pour compound after compound into one large beaker with no real hypothesis in mind, just mechanically grabbing and pouring whatever was in his reach. If it was colorful, it was going in the mix. Ruddiger took the liberty of hiding himself far, far away behind an unorganized pile of books as Varian took up the nonsense concoction in his hand, regarding it so tiredly he may as well have been sleepwalking at this point.

“Just you wait, Dad. This is—This is gonna get you outta there for sure.”

He took one step toward his father. Two. His stomach lurched, but all he had to do was pour this mixture over the substance and it would dissolve, and his father would be free at last. He would save the day, his father would apologize for doubting him, Rapunzel for turning her back on him, and they would all hug and laugh and eat ham sandwiches together—maybe not that last part, he was turning green at the thought of anything food related. How long had it been since he last ate anyways? He took another wavering step.

“Don’t you worry, it’s…It’s all gonna be…”

Maybe no more talking either. He had to pour all his focus into keeping himself upright anyway, which was proving more and more of a challenge with each agonizing breath he took.

“Just…”

And then, he could breathe no longer. The spinning of the world around him came to a stop. He felt his face and hands go ice cold—colder than they were before—as he started to cough so hard he felt like retching, his lungs on fire with the sensation that they were about to burst. He couldn’t get any air in between the amount he was expelling, it just kept pounding out from his chest until he was gasping raggedly as the wind had been knocked out of him and clinging to the wall for support, and that’s when the panic set in. He was going to pass out. He knew he was going to pass out. He just wanted some air, _anything_ , he wanted to lay down and rest and surely, it was the relentless coughing that brought tears to his eyes, not how terrified and again how _alone_ he felt. He pushed himself too far—was he going to die? It definitely felt like it. How silly he felt for wishing after her betrayal that Rapunzel was here with him, or really anyone. Just a hand to hold would be enough.

Varian’s frantic efforts to draw in more air found nothing but more choking before darkness began to creep into his eyes. The beaker slipped from his grasp and broke open across the floor, seeping fumes that invited themselves into his throat and scorched it until he was clawing at his chest but couldn’t make it stop. After hacking violently into his palm, he thought it would be the mind-searing pain that knocked him out for good but he was wrong. It was when he pulled his hand away and found it spotted in blood that the wooziness struck him like a certain famous frying pan to the head. All Varian could feel was his heart pounding in his ears and his knees giving from underneath him. With the newly familiar sensation of floating but not at all pleasant, he slipped to the ground, heavier than he had ever felt in his life. He lay there motionless, breathing in whatever toxicity was in that mess of an “experiment”, and couldn’t fight to so much as keep his eyes open anymore. Thirteen hours of hard work, wasted…He didn’t even have the energy left to grieve. He was nothing but a curled up heap on the floorboards, wheezing softly and wishing with the very last of his consciousness that someone, anyone would find him soon.


	2. Give in, I Won't Give Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saddle up folks, the heartbreak train don't stop here.
> 
> Once again this incredible art is drawn by co-creator RimaPichi!

Silence and a guilty conscience don’t mix well.

As Rapunzel watched dawn creep through the windows of Varian’s bedroom, all she could do was ruminate. It was dawn when they found him, too…She didn’t want to think about it, but with no one willing to make small talk, she couldn’t distract herself anymore. The scene played itself in front of her eyes again and again, her own voice echoing in her head; “ _What’s wrong with him? Varian, can you hear me? Varian!_ ”

When Rapunzel, Eugene and Cassandra secured their kingdom from the blizzard siege and set out for Old Corona, it was with the understanding and acceptance that they would be too late. Of course Rapunzel was the one who insisted on going; even if they couldn’t save Varian’s father, she had decreed, they would do what they could for him. She couldn’t just turn her back on him completely, nor could her friends convince her that she hadn’t done so in the first place. They were prepared to find Varian grieving, maybe even angry or betrayed. That was the worst that they imagined, yet what they found when they made it and burst through the door to his laboratory went beyond their worries still.

Yes, as the trio had feared, Quirin was a lost cause. That much they were ready for, as much as it crushed Rapunzel’s last remaining hope that they might somehow make it in time anyway. But there was no time to mourn failures. Nor was there a need to search for Varian; directly in front of Quirin, they found him unconscious on the ground with his hand surrounded by small bits of broken glass, some of which had lodged themselves through his glove, and a strong chemical smell seeping from the floorboards. He was barely breathing when Rapunzel grabbed him and whisked him away from the spill, blue in the lips with his chest quavering arrhythmically for air. At first, understandably, the three assumed that he had been knocked out in some lab accident. It wasn’t until Rapunzel handed him off to Eugene, who mentioned that he was burning up, that the weight of their new dilemma hit them.

Varian was too ill to recover alone. That was what Rapunzel said, but underneath her words, guilt had formed a heavy rock in her chest. It took one look at the post-tornado state of his lab to figure he had worked himself half to death after being abandoned, and if they hadn’t found him sooner…Her mind was made up. They were going to stay with him, and they were going to help him to get better, however long that took. What she failed to add, or what she was too afraid to add, was whether he liked it or not.

So, here they were in Varian’s bedroom, and here they had been for the last full day now. Occasionally Eugene or Cassandra would leave to refill a bucket of water from the nearby well so they could keep the cool rag over his forehead fresh. As for Rapunzel, she hadn’t been outside Varian’s room once since they carried him upstairs to bed. She kept herself occupied by attempting to read the books on his shelves, and when science lingo proved too difficult, she began studying all the different gadgets and gizmos he had installed in every direction. That lost its intrigue in about twenty minutes. No matter how closely she observed, she couldn’t understand how they worked at all. Granted, it wasn’t easy to grasp their function when she was commanded not to touch anything by Cassandra, who had barely said a word otherwise since discovering Varian in the state he was. She was even keeping herself from taking too many digs at Eugene, who was currently busying himself with some sort of examination on Varian’s condition. But, as expected of the two of them, peace wasn’t fated to last. As Eugene felt the kid’s wrist for a pulse maybe for the fifteenth time now, she couldn’t help but interrupt.

“I’m pretty sure he’s _alive_ , Fitzherbert.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for, Cas- _san-_ dra.” After a thought, he added, “His pulse is too quick.”

“What, you wanna add ‘doctor’ to that noble repertoire of yours?”

“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its very attractive cover. I may not have some fancy-shmancy medical license, whatever _that_ is, but when I was growing up, I had to look after myself. You’d be surprised to find how few doctors are willing to treat career thieves and not turn them in. I became quite the pro at it, actually. Just ask Lance! That big buffoon was always covered in scrapes and bruises for me to patch up, and talk about a lousy immune system.”

As much as she was dying to, Cassandra sacrificed her usual quips for the sake of not letting chatter wake their patient. Varian looked miserable enough as it was just sleeping. With every short breath he took there was an uncomfortable twitch in his sweat-soaked brow, and off and on he would get these persistent chills that no amount of blankets could seem to fix. Whatever he was going through had to be so bad that even his rest was wrought with suffering; any time it looked like he was about to relax, he tensed up again like someone was sticking him. Watching him made her feel under the weather herself, so she turned away from him instead, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

“So? What’s your diagnosis?”

“Well, there seems to be a heart missing, as well as a soul…Oh, my mistake, I thought we were diagnosing you.”

The air was too tense for banter. Eugene answered more seriously, “Pneumonia. I’ve seen it before, exactly like this. Then there's dehydration… ”

As if in response, Varian’s dry, cracked lips parted to mumble something in his sleep. Eugene dabbed at them with another damp rag and watched him relax a little.

“Then I guess we should find a real doctor to leave him with?”

“Woah, woah!” Rapunzel jumped in. “In case you guys have forgotten, we came here to help. We can’t just leave him like this! Besides, Eugene said he’s kind of like a doctor, right?”

“Woah, woah’ to _you_. Why is this on me? This kid doesn’t even know my name!”

“ _Dad…_ ”

“See? First he thinks I’m the real Flynn Ryder, and _now_ he thinks I’m his dad. If you ask me, this is—“

“ _Quiet._ ”

As Eugene opened his mouth to snap back at Cassandra, he followed the line of her pointed finger back to Varian, who was tossing and turning restlessly from the noise. He had his pillow clutched so hard to his face that the zipper from the casing left an imprint on his cheek, and with each involuntary shift of his muscles, he looked to be agonizing over a deep turmoil no one could see. There was an alarming wheeze to his breath that became all the more noticeable as he broke out into a pant, his features all scrunched up like he was fighting something terrible.

“ _Dad,_ ” he mumbled again, balling the sheets into his fist, “ _Don’t…don’t go…”_

“He’s got some real daddy issues, doesn’t he?”

“Like you don’t?”

One of these days, Eugene was going to get a lick in on Cassandra’s snide remarks. But he had yet to be afforded the time; out of nowhere, Rapunzel grabbed Varian’s shoulder and was starting to try and rouse him from his sleep.

“Raps, what are you doing? You’re gonna wake him up!” Cassandra whispered.

“But he’s having a nightmare!” she whispered back.

“It’s just a fever dream. You need to let him rest.”

“But…”

Dejected and totally not brimming with repressed guilt at all, Rapunzel let go of Varian’s shoulder and settled on smoothing his hair back instead. Her heart ached at how hot to the touch he was. She didn’t need a backstreet medical license like Eugene’s to know that that wasn’t right. And it wasn’t that she didn’t trust his experience, but it was hard to respect his advice on “letting the kid sweat it out” when he looked ready to burn to a crisp, helplessly trying to shrug the covers off of himself. Overcome with a need to do _something_ , she brushed the back of her hand under Varian’s chin and he leaned into it wholly, relaxing against the coolness of her skin for a fleeting moment before his eyebrows pinched together and he called weakly to his father once more.

“It’s okay, Varian. We’re here,” Rapunzel spoke, hushed and soothing. Varian stirred. A troubled expression crossed him.

“Princess…” His speech was slurred and thick from sleep. He blinked his eyes a few times, dazed, searching for that kind voice that was reaching to him. And then, when the haze cleared and the world fell into place around him, his entire body froze. It took several moments to register everything before he almost choked. “Pri—Princess! What are you—“

Violent, painful coughs erupted from his lungs. A sudden fear seized him that he couldn’t catch a breath, and seeing that Rapunzel being right in his face was making matters worse, Eugene stepped in front of her to press the cold rag that had fallen onto his pillow to the side of his neck. It helped enough; Varian’s fit began to settle, not without tapering into squeaky gasps as he unthinkingly held onto Eugene’s arm for support. For all his joking around, Eugene had to wonder if he was feeling for this kid the most. Who knew how long Varian must have been alone out cold in his lab before they found him? Would he have woken up at all if it hadn’t been for their interference?

Rapunzel started all too loudly, causing Varian to wince away from her, “Thank goodness you’re awake! We came looking for you and found you passed out.” _Give him some space,_ Eugene desperately wanted to warn her and didn’t. When she got ahead of herself, there was no reigning it in. “We brought you up to your bedroom, and—“

“ _Rapunzel,”_ Cassandra tapped her on her arm. Thank goodness—Eugene hated himself for ever allowing such cursed words to enter his brain, but thank goodness for Cass intervening where he couldn’t. “I told you we should let him rest.”

“I just want you to know that we’re here to help you get better. Eugene says you have plutonium—“

“ _Pneumonia._ ”

“—ammonia, and you need someone to look after you, so... “

It didn’t take a mind reader to recognize that Varian wasn’t thrilled to see her. 

“Okay, I know you’re probably mad at me. And trust me, I _completely_ understand.”

“Probably?” Varian said hoarsely. “You turned your back on me. You promised me I could come to you and you _lied_. And Cassandra, she—she just stood there and watched it happen!”

“Can I just point out that I’m completely faultless in all this?” asked Eugene.

“This is your fault,” Varian said. “My dad is trapped in those rocks, and _I_ am the _only_ one who can save him.”

He managed to set exactly one foot over the side of his bed when he was met with the draw of Cassandra’s sword, halting him. Eugene commented, a little unnerved himself, “Little violent, but hey, you do you.”

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re sick enough as it is, kid. That’s going to have to wait.”

If Varian had the energy for it he might have looked angry instead of nauseous. Rapunzel timidly pushed the hilt of Cassandra’s sword away from him and tried for a more gentle approach.

“Varian, I know I let you down then, but I want to make it up to you now. We’re going to stay with you until you get better, and then we’ll work on a way to free your father together. We’re not going to give up on him, I _promise._ ”

Varian grit his teeth, flushing an even harsher red than his fever already had him.

“Sidebar, Blondie?”

Eugene led Rapunzel away from the others, trying to keep his voice down as much as he could with bad results. “Are you sure we have the time to play doctor? It’s just that there’s a new crisis in Corona like every other day, and pneumonia isn’t exactly a 24-hour flu. And we’re not even sure there’s anything we _can_ do for his dad.”

“We’ll make time. I have to make this right, Eugene. I’ve already let so many people down, I just…”

He had seen well and good the toll that that blizzard took on her. The kind of decision making she had been put through almost broke her spirit, and Eugene wasn’t sure he could convince her on his own that she had made the right choices. The last thing he wanted to do was convince her that she hadn’t. There were times he had to insist and times where it was best to let her work it out for herself while he supported her from the sidelines. This, he supposed, was one of those times. Besides, it wasn’t like he could have turned his back on the kid anyways. He had nobody right now; no friends, no family, no nothing. Eugene knew first-hand just how painful and scary that could be. Sick and vulnerable to boot, there was no way they could leave him on his own.

“Alright,” he finally caved, taking Rapunzel’s hand. “I’m with you. You wanna start by strapping Hairstripe here into bed? Looks like he’s not gonna give up any time soon.”

Varian had dragged himself halfway to the door by the time Cassandra took her eyes off of him. She hoisted him back up onto his mattress by one arm, earning herself a brief glare before he more or less collapsed back into his sheets and turned away from everyone.

“Well, we’re almost out of water. Maybe you two can go together to refill the bucket.”

“What? Why? It only takes one person to bring back water.” Cassandra pointed out. She still had her sword drawn, just waiting for Varian to sneak out of bed again. Luckily he didn’t have any big escape plans when he was already nodding off.

“Come on, Cassandra, don’t you want to do some _bonding_ together?” Eugene threw way too friendly of an arm around her shoulder, but before she shoved him off he said just so she could hear, “Better to let them talk things out. It’ll take fifteen minutes tops.”

Reluctantly, Cassandra nodded her head. Somehow she wasn’t too keen on staying around sick people, so any chance for some fresh air—albeit with a thorn in her side that she could only describe as suffocating—was welcomed. They cleared the room without much of a fuss and left Rapunzel sitting stiff as a statue in a chair she had pulled up next to Varian’s bed, unsure how to approach this. She didn’t want to disturb him if he was trying to sleep. Fortunately that was proven not to be the case, as moments later Varian turned back around to face her in a huff, motioning for the glass of water he saw behind her. He wasn’t happy about her eagerness to hold it to his mouth for him, but the only other alternative was spilling it all over himself. He was too weak to even sit upright for more than a few sips.

“So,” Rapunzel put on a smile. “You have a pretty cool bedroom. What does that big machine with the comb do?”

Varian just stared back at her. What little energy he had, he concentrated it into saying with his eyes what he was too tired to say out loud: _leave me alone._ Rapunzel wilted under his gaze in seconds. She was almost ready to let it go when she noticed that he was trembling all over, worse than before when he was sleeping. What surprised her was that he almost didn’t seem to be aware, and that in turn made her wonder, _just how bad is it that he doesn’t notice?_

“Do you want another blanket?” she asked. There was a single old, worn throw left in his closet, but when she came to bring it over, Varian shoved her arm away. The throw fell to the floor with a sad _thwump_ by Rapunzel’s feet. By now things had gone far enough.

“Varian, _please,_ we’re just trying to help you.”

“I don’t _want_ your help anymore!”

The crack in his voice itched his throat and kicked off another coughing fit. Rapunzel picked the blanket back up off the floor and wrapped it over his shoulders, and underneath her caring touch, his shaking only got worse yet. “You keep making promises, but… “ He shook his head, biting his cracked lips raw. “You could’ve saved my dad before it was too late. And now he’s trapped in those rocks, and no matter what I try it’s not enough…!”

How it _hurt_ to talk. He begged himself not to cry for the sake of breathing, which was hard enough to do when he wasn’t a sniffling mess, but the more he tried not to, the more inevitable it became. The discomfort in his chest begot more tears, and before he knew it he was collapsing under this vicious cycle with his face buried in his hands, pain and anguish eating him from the inside out.

“That’s what we’re here for. We came as soon as we could, and I know it wasn’t soon enough, and I am so, _so_ sorry. But I am _not_ going to give up until I’ve made this right.”

“Then let me go back to my lab,” Varian implored her, tugging at her sleeve. “Please, Rapunzel, I’m not that sick!”

“We found you passed out on the floor!” Talking about it, the image haunted her. No doubt Varian could see that written all over her face. “I don’t ever want to see my friend like that again, so _please…”_

He accepted it quietly, hanging his head.

“Let us help you now. Once you get better we can worry about your father, okay? We’ll find a way together. I _know_ we will.”

It took a while, but Varian eventually let go of her sleeve and nodded. Nothing good would be accomplished if he was allowed back into his lab anyway, certainly not anything new. With a self-deprecating grin he added, “I was hoping you’d come after all…I didn’t wanna be alone.”

Rapunzel squeezed him tight.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

Varian smiled back at her, then turned away from her bear hug to cough. Except this time, it just wouldn’t stop. Each got more forceful and more painful, like there was something he had to get out of his chest but couldn’t. And the more he tried, the more air he lost until he was coughing without a chance to inhale, blindly grabbing onto Rapunzel’s shoulder as he doubled over.

“Varian? Are you okay?”

His eyes went wide—he couldn't stand the pain anymore. It was too much, and it wouldn’t go away. Every time he gasped for air his chest would only spasm in response, sending bursts of adrenaline flashing before his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe at all. It felt like he was drowning and no one could save him because there was no water to pull him out of. Instead it built up in his lungs, suffocating him from the inside. As he reached out his hand, Rapunzel took it and held onto it, reassuring him strongly, “It’s alright, take a breath.”

She was a princess, and he respected her no matter the tension at the moment, but a little annoyance underlined his panic that she didn’t understand just how difficult the concept of “taking a breath” was right now. As he hacked and coughed with no sign of relief, Rapunzel continued to rub his back until Eugene and Cassandra returned, bickering all the way when they stopped in their tracks. Varian regarded them with wild desperation, hot tears running down his cheeks. They snapped into action right away, Cassandra supporting him upright so he couldn’t fall backward as Eugene gently took his wrist.

“Hey. Look at me, kid. I know it really hurts, but you’ve got to try and calm it down.”

“I’m—“ Varian wheezed, “—gonna be sick…”

Cass handed him the wastebasket and squeezed his shoulder as he used it. The strain to throw up hurt so much he thought he would pass out right then and there, but it never came. Everything just kept hurting and hurting, it wouldn’t stop. Upon the numb tingling in his face, he finally felt the tears sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto his shaking hands, and with it a burning humiliation.

“Varian,” Eugene called to him again, “Varian, _calm down._ You’re hyperventilating.”

“I-I’m t-trying—“Varian gasped. He squeezed Rapunzel’s hand tighter, desperately trying to get a grip but what they were asking of him was impossible.

Through waves of dizziness, he saw Cassandra holding out a handkerchief for him to wipe his mouth. He took it and brought it up to his lips, but when a particularly hoarse fit caught him off guard, his stomach heaved again. Bile forced its way out of his throat and coated the handkerchief, and though it was hard to tell over how loud he was coughing, he noticed that everyone had suddenly gone quiet. With his vision fading in and out, he slowly brought the handkerchief away from his mouth. 

It was not spotted this time, but entirely soaked in blood.


	3. One Hand Left to Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was brought to you by our sponsor, insomnia. As always this wonderful art was drawn by RimaPichi, who you can find on Instagram at the same username <3
> 
> Edit: Thank you everyone for your comments/kudos! I will be traveling for a couple of days so I can’t respond right away, but I’m grateful for your support (*´꒳`*)

Floating…

Somewhere, in some vast, empty expanse of darkness, Varian was floating. Where everything above his neck was heavy and muddled and throbbing faintly, everything below was numb and detached. Vertigo swayed his inner balance like the ocean’s tides, carrying him off far from the rest of the world into a distant unknown. Except he wasn’t floating on his back but face down in the water, going through the motions of breathing only to draw in nothing but thick, tar-like liquid that pooled into his lungs. Ironically, the sensation that tormented him most was thirst. His throat was parched and gritty, his muscles ached from dehydration. If this was sleep, he was better off awake. At least he wouldn’t feel so alone.

The endless waves came creeping to a boil. Heat flared up in his cheeks and broke across his skin like wildfire, through no amount of tossing and turning could he escape. He could only groan, a pathetically weak one at that, while he hoped for relief to find him. And find him it did; in response to his whimper, something damp and cool was pressed to his forehead, melting away the flames and the tension. A soft sound slipped from his throat, like the tiniest unconscious attempt at a thank you. Then in a twisted jinx, he was pulled under into the ocean’s freezing depths, his body helplessly wracked with shivers. Through this miserable tug of war between fire and ice, he heard a voice that seemed so far away from him, low and somewhat soothing, though he couldn’t distinguish one word from the other. All he knew was that the disembodied voice was speaking to him, and when he put all his focus into it, he could start to ignore his body crying for mercy.

As shadows swam above him, he was almost lulled into peace when the itch in his throat became too much to bear and he was forced upright to cough it out. He didn’t realize it right away in his confusion, but there was a strong hand at his back, supporting it as he wheezed and then rubbing it gently while he recovered. He squinted his eyes; sunlight pierced straight into his skull, which did no wonders for his pounding headache. Either it was still morning or he had slept for an entire day, he had no sense for which. Through blurred vision, he could make out the figure in front of him just enough to know who he was, but the expression on his face was tough to read.

“Flynn Rider…?”

Eugene smiled back at him. The first thing Varian noticed was relief, like he’d been waiting a long time for him to wake up.

“Hey there. Finally coming back around?”

“Where are… ”

His eyes finally adjusted, and sure enough, the trio was all there. While Cassandra regarded him a little more quietly from across the room, it seemed like it was taking every ounce of self restraint for Rapunzel not to throw her arms around Varian and hug him til he popped. He had to wonder why, though. A celebration this big every time he woke up would be pretty nice.

“You’ve been out _forever_ , we were so worried about you!”

It had been an entire day. The inner workings of the human body were no mystery to him as a scientist, but even he didn’t know it was possible to sleep this much. Less so that he could wake up after so long and still feel this unrested.

“Are you up for a little company?” asked Eugene. “We brought a friend for you.”

Another one? Varian looked around when suddenly, he felt something pounce into his lap. His entire face lit up right away.

“ _Ruddiger!_ Where have you—“ A few unexpected coughs cut him off, but he was still grinning ear to ear. “Where have you been, buddy?”

“We _may_ have accidentally locked him in your lab when we brought you upstairs,” Cassandra admitted, finding it hard not to chuckle at Ruddiger skittering under Varian’s tunic. “By the way, you might need to replace your door. Something chewed a hole through it.”

Ruddiger chirped proudly. Charming as their reunion was to watch, Cassandra herself didn’t feel much like hugging and cheering. Not when she held her bloodied handkerchief from yesterday in her back pocket, a burning reminder that Varian was a lot sicker than anyone wanted to recognize. Eugene had already explained after yesterday’s attack that he only coughed his throat raw and they saw blood as a result of that, but there was something that still nagged at her, warning that something worse was on their hands. She asked, stiffly, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel all right,” Varian replied, “I think I can make it back downstairs after a little more rest.”

By the way Cassandra was staring daggers at him, he didn’t have to guess that that was a no. Instead, she ignored him and turned to face Eugene.

“Can we talk?”

No point in asking, Eugene thought, since she was already dragging him aside while Rapunzel fawned over their patient. He rubbed his arm, grumbling, “Way to treat the good doctor. I feel so appreciated right now.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Cassandra started.

“Hey, good for you. Better late than never, right?”

Her hand itched for her sword.

“Are you _sure_ all that blood yesterday was normal? We found him next to that broken bottle of who knows what. You don’t think it’s possible that something poisonous got into his lungs?”

“I told you, he tore his throat up from coughing too much.”

“Well, there’s that too. If he breathed in some dangerous chemical, it could be affecting his throat and causing his cough. This might not just be pneumonia, Eugene.”

Eugene pulled away from her and folded his arms indignantly.

“Oh no, I know what’s going on here. _You_ can’t stand me being right, can you? Everyone’s listening to Eugene, we can’t _possibly_ have that. One second in the spotlight and the jealousy comes pouring out, _I see how it is._ ”

“This isn’t about some petty rivalry!” Cassandra whisper-snapped. “If your diagnosis is off then we could be missing—“

“ _Ow!_ ”

They turned around. Varian was holding his hand close to his chest, flushed as Rapunzel gave him a curious look.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, startled. “Did I squeeze your hand too hard?”

“Oh, I’m just, uh…” Varian swallowed thickly. “I’m just left-handed, that’s all.”

“Right, that makes so much sense,” said Eugene. “Okay, kid, take your glove off.”

“S-Seriously, I’m fine—“

Never one to play games, Cassandra strode over to Varian’s side and in one swift motion yanked off the glove from his right hand. Looking at it, a sickened feeling came over the group, Varian in particular. They thought they had brushed away all the glass shards from the exterior of his glove when they found him, but it seemed a few larger ones had gone all the way in and buried themselves into his palm. His entire hand was dried over in rusty toned blood, though Varian wouldn’t know as he made a point of looking away from it as much as possible.

“Why didn’t you tell us about this? Eugene, get me some tweezers.”

“N-No! I mean, I uh, I-I don’t have any.”

Eugene already had a pair in his hand before he could finish. There were at least fifteen scattered about his room for machine tinkering—the perks of looking after a small inventor.

“Sorry, kid. We can’t risk you getting an infection on top of everything.”

“ _Don’t…”_ Varian scooted away until his back hit the bed rail. Lightheaded with dread, he felt as if his skin was turning to ice and his mattress was swallowing him whole as he broke into a cold sweat—actually, he was already pretty sweaty. Everyone had their strengths, he certainly had his. Pain tolerance was not one of them. It was bad enough wanting to curl up into a ball every time he had to breathe, but by the looks of it, he couldn’t escape now. He was surrounded. His best resolve was to look anywhere but at Rapunzel and imagine he was on some sunny beach, enjoying the sand between his toes, soaking up the rays and being stung repeatedly by angry scorpions burrowing into his hand—he squeaked when Rapunzel touched his wrist.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle, okay? Just close your eyes and breathe. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“O—…Okay…”

In and out, that was all he focused on. Except in made his head foggy with the threat of asphyxiation and out practically bruised his ribs. His difficulty “just breathing,” despite everything, still seemed to be lost on Rapunzel. As he tensed and trembled, Eugene came round to hold him steady by his shoulders, not so much as to keep him still but to ground him in any way he could. It worked, piece by agonizingly huge piece. Where the tweezers scraped his skin and made him jolt, Eugene would reassure him in that same calming voice he knew he’d heard before he woke; “ _I know, I know…It’s all right. You’re doing good._ ” It didn’t rid him of his apprehension, but it distracted him enough from it to not want to crawl out of his own skin just to escape Rapunzel’s prodding.

From there, it began to cross Varian’s mind just how thankful he was that they were here at all. That didn’t mean that every fiber of his being wasn’t screaming _make it stop_ , but he could at least tolerate it without the cruelty of isolation eating him up worse than any physical slight to his body. He would be lying if he said he already forgave them without any conflict, that wasn’t going to be true any time tomorrow. That said, he was thankful nonetheless. Rapunzel and Eugene were well out of their way to be here for him now, and that gave him a sort of comfort he wondered if he could have managed without.

Cassandra, on the other hand, was making him feel anything but comfortable. She peered into him like a hawk, distracting him from any solace and making him shrink away from her, which consequently caused Rapunzel to accidentally jab one of the shards in further. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. It struck him as odd of himself since he had always liked her aloof attitude, but right now was different. Right now, he did not want to see those eyes looking at him like… _that._ It was that disapproving scrutiny that hurt more than everything else. His breath picked up, torturing him with that sensation from earlier of something thick clogging up his lungs. No matter how hard he coughed, it only got worse and worse until he finally tugged his hand away from Rapunzel, wheezing, “ _Stop—“_ before hacking uselessly into the crook of his elbow. At some point he thought he would have become numb to not being able to breathe. No such luck yet.

  
“I just have to get this last piece,” Rapunzel tried, “Varian…?”

He couldn’t respond. All he could do was cough harder and harder, slouched over like a ragdoll. His vision was dimming, something that was sadly familiar to him lately. Seeing blue spreading across his lips, Eugene attempted to softly hit his back and loosen whatever mucus was caught in his chest but that, too, showed no luck. He was being too gentle, and Cassandra had no patience for it. While Varian choked for air, Cassandra brushed Eugene aside and then went to smack his back hard, sending stars to burst across his vision. Blood splattered from his mouth onto the sheets and left him dry heaving only briefly; the wind had been too knocked out of him for even that. Fading from consciousness, Varian collapsed sideways and fell against Eugene’s arms with deep, shuddering gasps, unable to so much as cry for as badly as he wanted to.

“I told you it’s not just his throat.”

“Would you chill out?!” Eugene snapped. “Pneumonia or not, you’re not making things any better!”

“W-What are those red dots on his face…?” asked Rapunzel.

“It’s petechiae. He strained himself too hard.”

“ _Or_ it’s—“

“Cassandra, _stop it._ ”

Even for Rapunzel, it was the first time seeing Eugene put his foot down so firm. Of course, this wasn’t any deterrent to Cass. She grabbed Varian’s chin, almost as if trying to be gentle with him while being sorely misinformed on the definition of gentle, and began to question him.

“Look at me. Do you remember what was in that bottle you dropped before we found you?”

“I-I don’t know,” Varian stammered through gasps, “I’m…trying to remember, but…”

“Remember harder. This is _serious,_ Varian. We want to help you here.”

Varian’s eyes pricked with tears. He blinked them away, red with shame. “I was just trying…to do what I could…”

“Give the kid a break. Can’t you see he’s exhausted?”

Cassandra took her soiled handkerchief from her pocket and held it up to his face. Seeing it, Varian swooned.

“Whatever was in that bottle made you sick. If you can’t remember, you’re only going to get worse.”

“ _Cassandra,_ ” Eugene warned.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Varian said again, curling his fingers against Eugene’s vest. He screwed his eyes shut but he couldn’t get away. His father’s glaring disappointment tormented him. “ _P_ _lease…_ We’re friends…”

“That’s why I’m trying to help you!”

Cassandra felt something touch her arm. She looked and saw Rapunzel, in a way she had never quite seen her before.

From the shadows under her eyes to her unwell pallor, there was no questioning that Rapunzel was mentally worn out. Not just from their spat but from everything leading up to it; the blizzard, discovering Varian, the argument that followed _that_ , watching him only get sicker under their care…She had been keeping a brave face through it all, but underneath it the rest of her was crumbling. Cassandra backed down immediately.

“Varian…” she whispered. When she reached her hand to him, he flinched away. “I’m sorry.”

Varian offered her a wary smile in return, shaking his head. “Y-You’re just trying to help,” he said. “I…I get that.”

“Maybe we should get some fresh air,” Rapunzel suggested. Her voice was strained—the tension was putting her through the ringer. Left with no choice but to accept, Cassandra spoke another quiet apology and went with Rapunzel into the hall, her head bowed as she left.

Varian sighed. Like only half of a crushing weight lifted off of him, he dropped back onto his pillow and stared up at the ceiling, holding his arms across his aching sides. His chest hurt terribly. Even Eugene didn’t say much, though that didn’t last for long.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just, er…Cassandra.”

“I know,” Varian mumbled. It hardly bothered him when Eugene went to remove the last piece of glass from his hand, almost like he didn’t feel it anymore. He didn’t even react when alcohol was poured over the cuts, which creeped Eugene out to an unspeakable degree. Even Lance would be blubbering like a baby by now. He continued to watch Varian with uncertainty as he wrapped layers of gauze over his wound, not sure what to say if anything, when Varian finally spoke up himself.

“I can’t even be sick without screwing something up.”

“ _Hey,_ ” Eugene scooted his wobbly little wooden stool up right next to Varian’s side. Varian looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not your fault. She just gets mad when she’s concerned. Or nervous. Or happy, even. The point is, Cassandra is a flaming ball of misdirected rage but she cares about you. We all do.”

“That’s the problem,” said Varian under his breath. “…I bet you’ve never had to worry about letting anyone down.”

“That came ominously out of nowhere. What are you talking about?”

“I mean, everybody knows Flynn Rider is the most capable guy around. Nobody underestimates you.”

“Oh, right. Like I said—“ Eugene stopped himself. Now wasn’t really the time to correct the kid. “People…underestimate me sometimes.”

“As if,” Varian snickered. “You’re a legend. People would be crazy not to trust you.”

“Well, that may be true, but life isn’t always peaches and cream for me either. Like that peach vendor? I stole _one_ peach from him and ever since— “ He cleared his throat. “What I’m saying is, some people like to think that just because I’ve made a few mistakes in the past, I’m not worth trusting. Not everybody cares that I had good intentions, you know?”

“Trust me, I know,” said Varian.

Eugene smiled a little. In stripping the bloodied top sheet from Varian’s bed, he couldn’t help but think back to Cassandra’s warnings, even if he was burned up about it. Pneumonia or not…coughing up this amount of blood wasn’t right. But there were no doctors and frankly no _people_ left in this now desolate village, nor could he imagine one recommending anything other than more bedrest. And less bombarding questions and swords in his face.

“Flynn?”

Eugene blinked away his worries and straightened up. Above all else, the last thing Varian needed was more to stress about. He decided then in his wisdom to change the subject to something that would surely be of no stress to Varian whatsoever.

“Your dad is kind of a legend himself around these parts, isn’t he? What is he, the mayor of your town? Shaman?”

Varian stared down at his lap. “He’s…the leader. He looks out for the good of our people.” At least, he thought so. He couldn’t get their meeting with King Frederic out of his mind. The argument in his lab was even worse to dwell on…Unthinkingly, he dug his nails into his thighs.

“You did everything you could to save him. I think he’d be very proud of you.”

“He _will_ be,” Varian muttered.

“He will be,” Eugene agreed. “Lie down. It’ll be easier to breathe that way.”

He lay back on his pillow, but it didn’t feel much easier to him. No matter how he lay something was crushing him, and until he could free his father that crushing feeling wasn’t going to end. At this point, he would do anything to take his mind off it.

“I’ve read all your books, but they never said anything about your parents.”

“I never knew them,” Eugene explained with a small shrug. “But I liked to think they were great adventurers too, like…”

“Like those mercenaries you allied with in _The Tale of the Rider?_ ”

“Yeah! That was the one where they—uh, _we_ took down the adulterous Duke of Ferrara, right?”

“Chapter 19,” Varian grinned tiredly. “I’ve only read it a hundred times.”

“You got it around here? I can read it to you if you want.”

“Top shelf, to the left.”

Through the exhausted haze in his eyes, Eugene could almost see stars shining in them. The book’s rich crimson binding stood out against Varian’s other manuals, so it was no task to find as Eugene pulled it from the shelf and riffled through the pages to chapter one. Just sitting on the stool with a heavy book in his lap evoked such a nostalgic feeling, he fell naturally into the funny voices and the narration brimming with spunk and bravado. It warmed his heart to watch Varian listen in awe like he didn’t know what would come next even though they both read it to perfect memorization.

But as he read on, he noticed Varian growing weary and wondered how long it had been since he got any proper rest himself. It had to have been just after the blizzard’s end. He soon began to follow each page turn with a yawn; come chapter two, he was already struggling to keep his eyes open to make out the words. The drowsiness came over him so fast, he was left without any energy to force himself awake and began to succumb to it instead. The moment he heard Varian snoring, he dipped his head and just let sleep take him, bookmarking their chapter with his arm lazed over the bind. 

Almost an hour later, the door opened. 

“ _E_ _ugene?_ ”

He woke with a start to Rapunzel’s voice.

“ _There_ you two are,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes. “You didn’t happen to bring some extra blankets and a pillow, did you? Sleeping upright like this isn’t great for my back.”

“I can’t believe this,” Cassandra seethed. “You had _one_ job!”

Eugene scoffed at her. “What, I’m not allowed to sleep? I’ve been looking after your patient for days! Some good _you’ve_ been doing.”

“And just _where is_ ‘the patient’?”

Eugene blinked. Looking up at them, he saw the terror in Rapunzel’s eyes, then slowly turned his head to glance over at Varian’s bed. The book thudded to the floor as he jumped up from his stool, searching wildly around the room and finding with a dreadful feeling that Cassandra was right. The bed was empty.

Varian was gone.


	4. Inner Collapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy moly this took ages thank you for your patience @all

“ _Not everybody cares that I had good intentions, you know?_ ”

If ever there was a sentiment Varian could relate to. He closed the upstairs door behind him, fumbled with his uninjured hand to lock it and surveyed the daunting expanse of his lab while he caught his breath. In and out in twenty minutes, that’s what he promised himself. He knew from just walking downstairs that he couldn’t stay standing longer than that anyways. He had one goal in mind, and if he could stay focused long enough to meet that goal without getting overwhelmed, he would have at least one thing resolved. With any luck he could make it back before anyone even noticed he was gone. Ruddiger leaped out from under Varian’s apron and skirted around his feet squeaking loudly in protest, but much like before, Varian walked right past him straight to the center of the lab.

“Don’t worry, little guy,” he sighed. By all means, he would rather be resting in bed too. Perhaps he was a little impulsive when he decided to lure Eugene into letting his guard down and sneak off, but he was already down here now. May as well do what he set out to do, against the nagging of his conscience. “I won’t be long. I just wanna run this one test.”

A quick twenty minutes later, Varian found himself struggling a lot more than he was prepared for. The procedure in question was child’s play; collect a sample from the bottle he dropped when he collapsed, run it through a few different testing strips for presence of various chemicals and document the results. On a normal day he’d be generous to allow himself five minutes. The obstacles started from step one, when he bent one knee to take a swab off the ground and was jolted by the most painful stabbing in his lungs he’d ever felt since…yesterday. Curled up, he instinctively squeezed his chest with his right hand and cried out at the skin pulling from the many wounds that covered it. In his unshakable brain fog he didn’t even consider anyone overhearing him, but he tried to swallow his suffering back for the sake of getting up on his feet. That in itself was a task he lost a great amount of time to, and Ruddiger watched it all pitifully unfold from the corner of the room without a thing he could do to stop him.

Varian was losing sensation in his limbs as he made his way to the least cluttered table in the area. It provided a decent amount of space for diagnostics, and moreover, it kept him a good distance away from his father, whom Varian had made every effort not to look at since entering his lab. To no one’s surprise, his efforts were in vain. Everywhere he looked now carried a sour memory; the boiler where he almost blew himself and his lab up in his carelessness, the shelf that held nothing but shattered glass beakers after he got frustrated and threw a manual at it, even the ceiling beared messy splats of explosion residue and smoke scorch. If his body didn’t give in from being down here, his mental stability surely would. For his own sake, and for the sake of everyone looking after him, it was best to return upstairs as soon as he was done. He wiped the sweat from his brow and slipped a testing strip into the sample tube, then waited.

Waiting for each strip to absorb and analyze for chemicals was the hardest part by far. There was nothing left to do in the meantime besides think, and thinking meant remembering. He remembered his father’s lies in the court of King Frederic and subsequent petrification, he remembered hours of agony that he stubbornly endured for a solution he still had yet to grasp. He remembered his mixed feelings as Rapunzel and her friends vowed to help him through this, and how they made more than good on their vow despite his initial resistance. Then he remembered Cassandra’s anger with him…Anxiety pricked across his skin like needles. He hadn’t thought as far ahead as showing everybody the results of his test without explaining that he snuck off, but he was doing this for her. His hope was that when he proved he hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself, she would be so relieved she wouldn’t have a chance to be mad at him. If she could just see that he really wasn’t some screw-up…

Impulsively, he looked to his father. It was impossible to continue ignoring his presence when he took up the center of the room, reaching out for help that Varian could not give. The walls began to close in, trapping Varian with Quirin’s looming figure until he could see nothing else. Deep in his delirium he knew by now that he was only hallucinating, but he was nonetheless haunted by ghostly voices that swirled around him, dizzying him, _torturing_ him without relent.

“ _Varian, you **must** get me out of here. You’re the only one who can do this. _”

_“Your dad is kind of a legend himself around these parts, isn’t he?”_

_“I don’t ever want to see my friend like that again, so please…”_

“ _If you can’t remember, you’re only going to get worse. I’m trying to help you!”_

As he tried to shake them all away, his breath got shorter and shorter. It felt like his lungs were going to give up on him any minute, all he wanted to do was get back into bed as quickly as possible and just lie under the covers away from it all for a while. He shouldn’t have snuck away in the first place, he knew he shouldn’t have. He just wanted Cass to understand and not be angry with him. The timer for his last test went off; all he had to do was analyze it, document it, and take his findings back upstairs with him. Then he could finally go to sleep and show everyone when he woke up, which was a plan that made total and perfect sense to him, a rational alchemist under no mental distress whatsoever. He reached to remove the strip.

It all just kind of…stopped.

It felt like his lungs crumpled in on themselves and stopped filling altogether, paralyzed like two heavy stones in his chest. His jaw hung open but he found no air, only a strangled rasp that did nothing but torment him with the urge to cough—even that much he couldn’t do. He couldn’t make a sound. A terror cold as ice broke out across his feverish skin when he realized he was all alone now, and this time, it was his fault. Panic surged through his veins; the faster his pulse raced, the more desperate he became for oxygen until he thought his heart would pop. As blood seeped through his bandage, he thought he would faint then and there when suddenly, far off in the distance, he heard knocking.

“Varian? Varian, open this door right now! We know you’re in there!”

_Thank goodness_ , he thought. He had never been happier to hear Rapunzel’s voice, until he realized his biggest problem yet.

The door was locked, and he was all the way on the other side of the room. To make it over there would be like crossing a canyon while suffering anaphylaxis. That wasn’t going to stop him from trying, though, if only briefly. He took one step and his knees buckled, knocking him into a table from which an entire set of testing equipment crashed to the floor.

“ _Hairstripe?_ ” he heard Eugene holler. “What in the world are you doing in there? This isn’t a game, open up already!”

On the other side of the door, the three were getting agitated. Rapunzel pounded at it to no avail, frantically twisting and turning the knob and losing herself to frustration. When she heard the collapse, she looked at Eugene pleadingly, but Cassandra was two steps ahead. Taking a deep breath, she kicked the door with all her might and knocked it clean off its hinges, revealing to them a sight no one was ready to see a second time.

Varian was in the final throes of consciousness, desperately grasping at nothing but floor to steady himself and regain his breath. He couldn’t. Saliva dribbled onto the ground as he lay open-mouthed, a dangerous shade of blue creeping into his lips and fingernails. His eyes rolled back; they watched the fight drain out of him from convulsion to helpless trembling, and then nothing at all. His collapsed, motionless body threw everyone back into the worst déjà vu they had ever known, and against her quick-to-react nature, it was Cassandra who froze up. She found herself consumed, not by the memory of finding Varian for the first time but of talking to Rapunzel moments before now.

_“Are you sure we should leave him alone in there?”_

_“Eugene’s with him.”_

_Cassandra gave Rapunzel a dubious look. Rapunzel weathered it tiredly and took her hand._

_“I know you want to help, Cass, so do I. But you’re being_ **_way_ ** _too rough with him. You can’t just force him to get better. All we can do is be here for him.”_

_Cassandra pulled her hand away. “Right. While we stand around in the kitchen and talk, away from him.”_

_“Cassandra…”_

_Divided between regret and obstinacy, she crossed her arms and paused for an uncomfortable amount of time. “I’m sorry. I just…It’s not like I don’t feel bad too, Rapunzel. I was the one who encouraged you to turn him away. And now he’s getting worse, what do you expect me to do? Wait it out and let your boyfriend play doctor until he dies?”_

_Saying that, she already knew she was in the wrong. Rapunzel was reeling from the mere suggestion._

_“You can’t push him anymore than you already have, Cass,” Rapunzel insisted. “I’ve been thinking…We need him to get him back to Corona.”_

_“In his condition? He can barely get out of bed. There’s no way he could endure the ride.”_

_“Then we need to bring one of our doctors back. Someone with equipment, medicine, anything. He’s getting worse, I get it, but scolding him definitely won’t help. I think he might be…scared of you.”_

_It took a moment before Cassandra could come up with anything to say back. “I’ll go,” she finally conceded. “You two are better at this anyway. He probably won’t even notice I’m gone.”_

“Cass!”

By the time Cassandra snapped back to reality, Rapunzel was down on the ground, holding Varian’s jaw between her fingers as Eugene tirelessly forced compressions to his chest. “You need to go, _now!_ ”

“Are you—“

“We’ve got this,” Rapunzel panted before dipping her head to breathe into Varian’s mouth. “ _Go!_ ”

Cassandra took off out the door, whistling for Max and Fidella. She didn’t want to go, not a single bone in her body agreed with leaving them behind like this. With every stride of distance she put behind Varian and herself, her heart ached with remorse. But someone had to go, and of course she was that someone. Squeezing Fidella’s reins, she swore she would make it back before tomorrow’s dawn. If she could have only made them swear to keep Varian alive until then.

As Eugene continued his compressions, Rapunzel wiped the tears from her cheeks and braced herself to breathe into Varian’s mouth again. Though it was selfish, she wished Cass didn’t have to go either. But wishing was useless. If she had made one single good decision since her parents left, none of this would have happened. What ate at her most was how she told Varian they would be right here with him until he was better, and how sincerely he agreed. Well, too little too late. Again.

If they could be grateful for anything, it was for Varian recovering quickly. After only two minutes of resuscitation, he sat up on the backs of his hands with a strangled, terrified gasp, choking for air in Rapunzel’s arms. The pain from a severe bruised rib Eugene had caused in pumping his chest swiftly knocked him right back out and he crumpled against her, utterly drenched in sweat. His skin was blazing hotter than ever before—Rapunzel looked to Eugene, who picked him up without a word onto his back. There were no words to be shared. Even encouragement was lost on Eugene, who felt just as helpless as she did. With mild steps, he made his way for the door when he noticed Rapunzel was not behind him, but instead was fixated on a small rectangular strip between her fingers with a bright red square at the top. 

“Rapunzel?” he called out.

“You go on ahead,” Rapunzel called back. “I’ll…be there in just a second.”

Eugene hesitated. Then, feeling Varian shift his weight and groan miserably on his back, he decided to let it go and headed upstairs.

* * *

When Varian woke, his eyes had a rough time adjusting to the dark. It had to be the middle of the night by the sound of owls and crickets outside his window, though with the pounding in his head it sounded like they were right inside his ears. He saw Rapunzel, Eugene…Cassandra was nowhere to be found. A horrible, somewhat delirious sense of abandonment nauseated him, and the fresh pain in his left side like his ribs had been crushed in didn’t make it any better. She left, just like that. Out of annoyance or boredom, he didn’t know. As his sense blurred, his emotions ebbed together in one simple answer he would have laughed off if he wasn’t wrecked with fever; she hated him. His fingers slowly curled into the blankets, reminding him of the wound to his hand that started this. Tears blotted his vision.

“Varian,“ Rapunzel started, softly cupping his cheek. 

“ _No,_ ” Varian’s breath hitched, “I swear I was just—“ There was no way he could finish. Every word was a dagger in his side to get out, all he could do was look to Rapunzel pitifully.

“ _I know._ You were just trying to find out what was in that bottle so Cassandra wouldn’t have to worry, right?”

Tearfully, Varian nodded. Even doing that made his head spin. He opened his mouth again, but the intention alone of speaking made him want to throw up. “What about—“ He held an arm around his side, grimacing.

“Don’t talk,” Rapunzel coaxed him. “It’s alright.”

Varian shook his head. “What about Cass…?”

Taking care not to jostle the mattress Varian lay on, Rapunzel brushed the skirt of her dress under her and sat next to him, putting a comforting arm around his shoulder. Ruddiger hopped into her lap and mimicked the gentleness in her manner. “She’s bringing back a doctor for you right now. She doesn’t want you to get any worse, Varian.”

Judging by the emptiness that had dulled out Varian’s eyes, he wasn’t convinced. He lay his head back on the pillow and watched the shadows of the clouds glide slowly over his ceiling with a lump in his throat. Even if he had the energy, he wasn’t sure he could cry anymore. Eugene picked up Varian’s book from the floor and waved it in front of his face with a somewhat forced smile, reclaiming his seat on the stool by his bedside.

“Don’t stress yourself out, kid. Here, we were on chapter three, right?”

Varian turned away from him.

“Hey now…Nobody’s mad at you. We’re just glad you’re okay. You really had us scared back there, you know that? When I saw you were gone, my heart stopped. By the time Cass busted your door down I thought we were too late.”

Ashamed, Varian pulled the blanket over his hunched shoulders. Eugene put a sympathetic hand on his back.

“Just don’t do anything dangerous like that again, that’s all I’m asking. We’re still Team Awesome, aren’t we?”

_Team Awesome._ A faint smile dimpled Varian’s cheek. He nodded his head and felt Eugene pat his back. As if he couldn’t get any more embarrassed, his stomach growled in response. He pulled the covers up to his face, practically glowing red. Eugene laughed, “Sunshine, where did you say the kitchen was? I think I better get our patient something to eat before he keels back over.”

Rapunzel gave a small chuckle. “Down the hall, to the left.”

Eugene headed out, not without exchanging a look with Rapunzel that Varian could only describe as odd. Not exactly unhappy, but definitely urging something. Rapunzel seemed to recognize the expression and nodded in response but when Varian watched her curiously, she just smiled back at him.

“Guess your book is gonna have to wait until after you’ve eaten.”

Varian mouthed some sort of concern to her, his throat too sore for words anymore and the rest of his body frankly too tired. She shook her head with a grin and reassured him, “Cassandra and I already ate, don’t worry.” Relieved, Varian sighed and closed his eyes.

A couple of moments passed. Varian could sense tension holding the princess rigid, but he was simply too exhausted to say anything of it. After being out for hours, the aching all over his body had dulled into less of a flashing pain and more of a soreness that made him want to burrow into his bed and sleep for weeks. The only thing that remained a constant source of searing torture was the bruise to his side he woke up with, and that had him too distracted to bother questioning what had risen up between Rapunzel and Eugene. After taking too deep a breath, he winced and screwed his eyes shut. Even if he wanted to sleep, he had a feeling that wasn’t going to come to him for a while.

In an uncertain voice, Rapunzel spoke up. “There’s…something I need to ask you about…”

Varian glanced up at her. He looked so miserable, lying there coated in sweat with his bandaged hand hung lazily over his aching ribs. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open, thus giving a little nod to indicate he was still listening. But she said nothing. He had been through too much, they all had. And seeing how much he suffered when he spoke, she couldn’t bring herself to push it. The least she could do was wait until after he rested and ate a little to ask.

“Nevermind,” she said, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Just rest. We can talk later.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He already had his eyes closed, flinching now and then at the pain throbbing in his side. Rapunzel waited in still silence, hoping against hope that Cassandra would return with a doctor before too long. The way things were looking, they needed one as soon as possible.

In the kitchen, Eugene looked much the same, head hung as he waited on a pot of broth to heat up. Wrong as Cassandra was to have been so forceful, he was wrong to have taken things so lightly all along. If he had listened earlier, they could have sent for a real medic a long time ago. Whoever she brought back now, he prayed they would bring with them the right antidote to combat what Rapunzel showed him from the final testing strip Varian left on the lab table. Eugene was no scientist himself, but “ **Warning: Lethal Chemicals Present** ” probably didn’t mean anything good.


	5. And the Truth Flows Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just as surprised as you are lol
> 
> I had a week of free time so I bestow upon ye all yet another chapter of everyone's favorite character being miserable 
> 
> I would also like to apologize for JUST NOW REALIZING I FORGOT PASCAL EVEN EXISTS?? I guess it's too late to throw him in now so let's just say he's currently in Corona acting as the princess in Rapunzel's absence idk im so sorry i didn't even realize--

Eugene returned to find a very Rapunzel-esque statue in Varian’s bedroom.

She sat still with her hands folded rigid over her lap, unmoving, her attention locked on Varian as a guard would on the nation’s most precious treasure. He could see all the way from the doorway where he stood just how stiff her every muscle was. Shadows hung over her back like a cloak while moonlight from the window ahead outlined her features, and every ounce of exhaustion that had sunken them.

She was fighting to stay awake. Her eyelids drooped closed, then snapped right back open again, terrified she would be met with an empty bed or another emergency. Luckily Varian was still there, still safe and sound—well, relatively sound. There were no surprises this time, except the one that walked up behind her.

“How you holdin’ up, Blondie?”

Though startled, Rapunzel was rather sluggish to turn around. Eugene pulled up his stool beside her and set down a freshly heated tin bowl of pork broth atop one of Varian’s many eclectic chests. “Not that you don’t look as stunning as always,” he said, “but those are some _really_ dark circles under your eyes.”

He watched her shoulders deflate. When she spoke, it was in an unusually soft voice; Eugene wasn’t sure if she was whispering for Varian’s sake, or if she was too tired to speak any louder.

“I guess sleeping in a chair hasn’t exactly been _restful_ ,” she replied. Her smile pulled uncomfortably taut across her lips.

“Well, our situation isn’t exactly restful either,” Eugene added. “I know I didn’t quite, er, do my part to the best of my abilities last time, but if you need a break, there’s the spare bedroom down the hall. I’m...not sure the owner is going to miss it right now.”

“I’m _fine,_ Eugene. Really, it’s okay.”

Varian made a soft, wounded sound in his sleep, and Rapunzel nearly leapt to her feet.

“False alarm,” she said sheepishly. Eugene gave her an odd look.

“Rapunzel, really--”

“ _I’m okay._ I promise I’ll take a break once Cass gets back.”

She didn’t mean any offense, Eugene knew, but after letting Varian out of his sight last time, he felt an awful pang of guilt. 

“It’s already been a few hours. She should be back with a real doctor soon, and maybe they’ll know what to do.”

“He’s been lucky to have had you this far,” said Rapunzel.

“Yeah...I’m not so sure about that,” Eugene mumbled to himself.

Idly surveying Varian’s bedroom, he took _The Tale of The Rider_ into his hands and ran his palm over the cover. There was still a thin layer of dirt from when he had let it drop to the floor.

He was no doctor, he knew. He never even really meant to play that charade in the first place. It just bothered him so much to have Cassandra criticize him, but even he was aware that they wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t ignored decent advice. To say he let his pride get the best of himself was an understatement; because of his bickering, he almost let his pride get the best of Varian, too. That wasn’t something he could easily pat himself on the back for.

“Did you ask him about that thingy you found?”

“Not yet,” Rapunzel said. “He was still pretty tired, so I let him sleep.”

“Probably for the best. We need to wake him up to eat anyways. No time like the present.”

Eugene lightly shook Varian’s shoulder. Varian shifted and blinked his eyes, taking a few long moments to let the world settle into view, and then groaned.

The pain set in immediately and attacked him from all over; his ribs, his lungs, his head, worst of all his throat. He felt as though he’d swallowed a jagged rock that was now trying to carve its way out through his trachea. He could not swallow, could not breathe, could not so much as sit up without being enveloped in misery. He might have screamed instead, had he the energy for more than a pathetic whine.

“Hey there, buddy,” Eugene said softly. “Brought you some soup. You feel up to eating?”

Varian stared at him with parted lips and paused, then resigned and shook his head slowly.

“Come on, I heard your stomach growling earlier,” Eugene teased him. “It’s been days. You have to eat _something_.”

As if it had sensed some impeccable comedic timing, Varian’s stomach growled again. His face burned, but he continued to shake his head. The half-pint alchemist looked even smaller when he was embarrassed, Eugene thought to himself.

“Is it your throat?” Rapunzel asked suddenly. “Does your throat hurt?”

Varian nodded, then buried his face back into his pillow and shut his eyes. Moving his head too quick had caused his entire world to spin. Ruddiger padded up from the foot of his bed and nuzzled against his neck, hoping to bring him some comfort. It did, aside from the tickle of fur bothering him.

“Alright, how about a compromise?” suggested Eugene, dusting his fingers over the top of the book he held in his hands. “Just eat half, and the princess and I can keep reading to you together. Where else are you gonna find a deal this sweet, right?” He looked at Rapunzel, shrugged, and said, “It’s something.”

Varian regarded the book for a moment, then brought the bowl up to his lips and looked at it hesitantly.

“It’s only broth,” Eugene coaxed him. “It’ll make your throat feel better in no time.”

Varian took one spoonful, dipped the bowl towards him and drank its contents down in less than a minute. His mix of hunger and thirst had awoken the moment the broth passed his lips and far outweighed the pain in his throat—that is, until he was done eating.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his hand languidly over his chest as Rapunzel ruffled his hair. Even Ruddiger showed him his appreciation by poking his fat wet nose against Varian’s cheek. The sting surging through his throat was fresh, but at least his stomach was satiated. It even lessened his headache a little, though his skull continued to ache relentlessly.

“I thought that might work,” Eugene said with a satisfied grin. “Alright, let me just grab a pillow for my neck. Let me tell you, sitting on a stool like this is _not_ great for my posture.”

Varian gave up his bowl to Rapunzel, who took it and went to follow Eugene out the door when something stopped her. Even if for less than a minute, she didn’t want to leave Varian alone. Any number of things could happen to him in that time—any number of things already _had_ happened to him. She placed the bowl on top of a writing desk beside a modern-looking lamp from which the only light in the room eminated and turned away from the door.

“Cass should be back soon,” she mentioned, pushing cheerfulness into her voice as she began to tidy up what was already clean. Varian started to cough, a rough, exhausting force from his abused lungs that had him hunched over his knees.

“Are you alright?” she demanded. “Here, lie back.”

She hurried to ease him back down, but Varian gave a little wave of his hand and then a shaky thumbs-up. _I’m fine,_ his bleary-eyed expression said. _Don’t worry._

Rapunzel sighed with relief. Varian smiled at her and lay down, his back turned from her direction.

Physically, he was alright as he could be in his state. He wasn’t presently choking to death, so that was a plus. But the thought of seeing Cassandra again…He was still too tired to know how he really felt about that. She was so angry the last time, and he had _really_ done it now by sneaking back into his lab. And after all that effort, he still didn’t have his proof that he didn’t inadvertently poison himself like she’d accused him of doing. Not that it was really a foolproof plan to begin with, he could admit that much by now. He thought his little escapade through about as clear as a brick wall, which was conveniently what he felt like he’d been heaved against in the aftermath.

Eugene came back in with a pillow tucked under his arm and settled back onto his stool. Varian was so lost in thought he didn’t even register Eugene’s re-entrance until he heard him clearing his throat.

“Now, before we get started…We just want to ask you about something.”

“ _Remember harder. This is_ **_serious_** _, Varian. We want to help you here.”_

Varian flinched. His eyes flickered between Eugene and Rapunzel, repressing anxiety as it swelled from the pit of his stomach. He nodded to indicate that he was listening, which didn’t do wonders for his growing nausea.

“Varian…” Rapunzel didn’t know where to begin. She struggled for the right words and found only that there were none. “Eugene and I don’t know much about this, um, Awesome Power of Alchemy stuff, so we need you to tell us…”

She removed the plasticy strip she found in Varian’s lab from where she’d stored it in her corset, and after hazily making out the results, Varian’s eyes widened. He shot up from his pillow in disbelief.

“It can’t be—“ he exclaimed, clutching at his chest. The bruised side of his ribs screamed at him to lie back down, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t believe this. What did this mean for him?

What would he say to Cassandra now?

“This is from that bottle you broke, right? If those were dangerous chemicals that you breathed in, that means that we need to get you an antidote as _soon_ as possible. Is there anything in your lab we can— _Varian?_ ”

A warm trickle of blood had begun to flow from Varian’s nose and dripped over his lips. 

He touched it with his uninjured hand, mouth agape, and in that instant the rest of the world sank away. There was nothing left in the room with him but his blood and his own terror. 

Eugene took several tissues from Varian’s nightstand and encouraged him to tilt his head forward, but as the blood continued to pour, the anxiety pounding in Varian’s heart rose. His head was thudding with the urge to succumb and pass out, but after having slept so much these past few days, it simply wouldn’t come. With each rapid gasp that pierced his ribs, he willed everything to just _stop_ but it was futile. He couldn’t catch a breath. Everything was going numb.

“He’s hyperventilating again. _Varian—_ “ Eugene was struggling to keep his own hand steady. “ _Relax._ You’re making the blood come out faster.”

Wrong thing to say. Varian’s breathing picked up even worse until Rapunzel grabbed his hand and let him squeeze it as she smoothed his hair back. For as much as she tried to calm him, she was struggling to stay calm herself.

“What’s going on?” she pleaded, hugging Varian tight to her. His blood soaked the bodice of her dress—when he saw it, he thought he was going to be sick. The only thing that convinced him to hold down his dinner was the fear that his ribs would snap like a twig under the strain.

“Stress,” Eugene answered shakily, “Or maybe his sinuses are dry, or it's the…I don’t know! Damn it, why isn’t Cassandra back yet?”

“She’s supposed to be back any minute.”

“I don’t—“ Varian wheezed. “I don’t…”

“You don’t what?” Rapunzel asked. “Varian? What’s wrong? What is it?”

Tears flooded his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, mingling with blood as they dripped off his chin.

“I don’t want to see her…”

At that moment, in true impeccable comedic timing, the door swung open.


	6. Hiatus Update 05/05/20 + New Chapter Released

**May 05, 2020**

Hello all (again!)

Thanks to Golden Week I've had enough free time to shit out yet another chapter of Good Boy Suffering, though it is admittedly shorter than everyone's favorite half-pint alchemist himself. New art should be coming soon as well; to stay updated, follow shiamity or rimapichi on instagram as she's the artist behind all the lovely illustration work (as well as the commissioner of the fic and the plot itself!)

With coronavirus making conditions unpredictable as it has (speaking of which, who woulda figured an actual spread of pneumonia _named coronavirus _would interrupt this fic), I'm not sure when I can expect to be busy and when I can expect an abundance of free time on my hands like the week I've just had. Therefore, I'm maintaining hiatus status to avoid setting any expectations that won't be met. More of an "another chapter's coming but god only knows when" status, if you will. If you have any questions let me know and I'll answer to the best of my abilities ^ ^

Thank you all for your support, and I look forward to getting chapter 6 out whenever I can!

I wish you all safety, health, and good reading material in these trying times <3


	7. Healing Always Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sORRY sorry sorry it took me so damn long to get around to this one, courses and coronavirus and all that jazz
> 
> I’m looking to get the next chapter out in a timely fashion this go around, so in the meantime please enjoy!

The door swung open, and barging in came an austerely dressed woman with heeled boots clacking and a stethoscope slung around her neck like a fashion statement. She was plump, with puffy arms and legs like risen dough under her tight-fitting white sleeves and her graying hair yanked back into a stern lower bun. Her face was hardened with crow’s feet and wrinkles, and her beady eyes peered from behind her thickly framed glasses.The only thing following behind her was a serious trunk—that is, a chest of what was presumed to be medical equipment—but no Cassandra. Varian wasn’t in much of a state to be eased by small reliefs, and plenty to be just as terrified of the woman who came bounding through the door in her stead.

“Don’t wanna see me, eh? That’s what they all say. Well, you’re seeing me anyway, so make way!” The old woman bumped Eugene out of her path with the swing of her hip. He certainly didn’t have any intention of getting in her way. 

“Oh, dear, what a mess. Nosebleed at three o’clock! You there, Mister Good-Looking. More tissues—and make it snappy!”

Eugene stared vacantly at a nearby clock that confusingly read twelve, not three, before snapping out of it and searching the shelves for another tissue box. The woman took Varian’s chin between her finger and thumb and studied him harshly, though his panic seemed to elude her. Or rather, it didn’t phase her after what had to have been decades in the field, judging by her demeanor. Rapunzel was struck with fascination watching her carry herself the way she did.

“Breathe, boy. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Well, not any more than you’re already hurting.”

“ _ Stop… _ ” Varian groaned.

“She’s here to help you,” said Rapunzel, “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, just—just—“

“Think he means the blood, girl. Why don’t you go on and change? Splash some cold water on your face. I don’t have a whole lot of patience to start with, but worry warts are the last things I can tolerate.”

“Is he going to be—“

“Doubting my medical prowess, are we? Out! Out with you!”

Being royalty suddenly meant little more than the color of one’s eyes as Rapunzel resigned herself obediently outside of Varian’s room. The mood shift was so quick, as though a bunch of young siblings had been goofing around when Mother finally came home to lay down the law. Taking a look around, Rapunzel found no traces of Cass anywhere and decided to do as the woman said, starting firstly with what she could change into. Dresses would be hard to come across around here…But what was she thinking? Anything would have to do; she had to get back to Varian as soon as possible. The doctor could need her help any minute, and Varian her comfort. She took a brazen step for the master bedroom, and slammed into Eugene.

“We have to stop ‘running into each other’ like this,” he wisecracked, unable to resist the joke. However, the frown on his face told that he didn’t get much out of it. “I got kicked out too. She said  _ I _ was too imposing. Now, if you wanna talk imposing…”

“I’m glad she’s here,” Rapunzel breathed, far more relieved than she had expected herself to be. Despite being forced to wait outside, there was no doubting that this lady knew what she was doing.

“She seems nice,” said Eugene.

“She called me a worry wart,” said Rapunzel. “What even is a worry wart?”

“Really? She called me good-looking. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just royal prejudice.”

Rapunzel threw open the doors to a coat closet further down the hall and sifted through a few hangers. Each coat was dark and impossibly heavy except for a couple Varian-sized cloaks, which made Rapunzel wonder about the need for so much heavy clothing in a warm climate like Old Corona. Eugene shrugged off his own vest and put it around Rapunzel’s shoulders, latching the front for her.

“Um…More curious than concerned, but where is Cassandra?”

“I don’t know,” Rapunzel answered, “I don’t hear any other footsteps yet.”

“And I don’t sense a terrible icy presence around. I guess you’re not going to ask me to go look for her while you go back in there and try to convince Doctor Four-Eyes that you can be of help somehow.”

“Could you go and look for Cass?” Rapunzel said, already making her way back towards Varian’s bedroom. “I’m gonna go back in there and show that woman that I can help.”

“What an unanticipated response from you, darling! Meet you back in five.”

* * *

Cassandra took two steps towards the entryway staircase, then a step back. Then a step forward, then two steps back. 

She kept her arms folded tight across her tunic as she practiced her awkward dance of indecision, then turned her back to the quaint village home for what she told herself for the hundredth time was the final time, then turned back around. When she did, she saw a new figure leaning its shoulder against the doorway.

“What are you doing out here, Fitzherbert?” Cassandra snapped, exasperated.

“Hey, pea-sized minds think alike. I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“You do realize you just called your own mind pea-sized.”

“It makes room for all the charm. So let me guess, the good doctor kicked you out before you even got a chance to come inside?”

Cassandra couldn’t help but snicker. If Eugene thought she was bad already, he had no idea what it had been like trying to recruit and drag her all the way back to Old Corona at a moment’s notice.

“Gertrud is the best in her trade, that’s what matters…” She came in front of the staircase, but had yet to take a step. “Have I ever told you I don’t really like sick people?”

“I’m gonna be honest,” said Eugene, “You’re not exactly the ‘telling people things’ type.”

Cassandra dribbled a pebble on the toe of her boot and kicked it down the road, grounding her heel into the dirt under her feet.

“Squeamish, huh?”

“He doesn’t want to see me anyway.”

“Iiiii...” Eugene scratched the back of his head, “... _ might _ have gotten that impression.”

Cassandra stood obstinately, saying nothing.

“But you can’t stand out here all day and night. Not that  _ I’m _ complaining, but if I know Rapunzel, she’s going to want to stay put until Varian’s doing cartwheels in peak condition. And with the way he is  _ now _ , I’m thinking that’s gonna be a while.”

Cassandra turned her back to him.

“And I don’t think the princess will approve of you setting up camp and hiding outside until he’s recovered.”

“ _ Hiding? _ I never said I was hiding,” she snarled.

“Avoiding, procrastinating, take your pick.”

Cassandra let go of a long suppressed sigh, and eyed Varian’s home without making a move towards it.

“I know you’re confused, but that feeling in your cold dead heart of something not being right is called  _ guilt _ . Decent people usually try to apologize and make things right when they feel guilty. Why not give it a go? There’s a first time for everything.”

The worst thing Eugene could do in Cassandra’s eyes was say something agreeable. She hesitated, lifting her heel slightly from the ground.

“I can’t deal with any more surprises from this kid.”

“He’s in good hands. He’ll be okay.”

Cassandra nodded. He was in frankly loud and annoying hands, but none the more than in Eugene’s, and this time it was a real doctor who knew what she was doing. All they had to do was follow her lead. Reassured by that, Cassandra went through the entrance with Eugene and headed upstairs, though she was still biting back dread deep down in her heart.

What would they see this time? Would he be unconscious? Seizing? Cassandra felt uncomfortable around the average case of the sniffles. With Varian as he was, an assortment of beyond uncomfortable things were playing in her head. She braced herself and put her hand on the door knob. 

When they entered the bedroom this time, they found Gertrud, Rapunzel, and Varian, clean and sleeping peacefully in a freshly stripped bed, totally fine if not for a few struggles for breath here and there.

“What did I tell you? Best. In.  _ The land. _ ”

“Yeah, definitely,” Cassandra agreed, concealing her sigh of relief under a muttered comment, “Like I didn’t hear that 800 times on the way over…”

“And what about the poison?” asked Eugene.

“See, that’s a little trickier. I’m a doctor, not an alchemist. I got what information I could out of him while he was awake, and it seems like I’ve got the antidote I need in my apothecary cart, but, well… _ You  _ two youngins might want to clear out when he takes it. Pneumonia or not, that stuff’ll make a comatose man scream. It’s not a sight ordinary people are keen to handle.”

“By you two, you mean me and Rapunzel, right?” Cassandra asked, her throat feeling a little thick.

“Oh, heavens no. You’re clearly the strongest of the bunch. I need you to stay here and hold him down.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what are you saying?” Rapunzel felt her skin going icy cold. “Is it going to hurt him?”

“Go grab the antidote from the cart, will you?” Gertrud said, vaguely shooing her hand at Cassandra. “It should be stored in a compartment underneath one of the carriage panels. Small vial, the contents are black as tar. You can’t miss it.”

“Black as… _ Oh, _ ” Eugene swallowed hard. He had encountered that kind of medicine once in his teenage years. It was a sort of cure-all for unknown poisons, if you were willing to live through the effects of drinking it. His memories of it were fuzzy, given that he had been pretty out of it at the time, but in his body he could feel it as hot as a flame. It was enough to make him lightheaded. Needless to say, you couldn’t find that sort of medicine on any regular market. “So you’re  _ that _ kind of doctor.”

“I said I was the best doctor in the land,” the woman replied flatly. “I didn’t say I was a legal one.”

* * *

When Cassandra had gathered the courage to come back inside from retrieving Varian’s antidote, Eugene and Rapunzel were just coming out. Eugene had his hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder, murmuring something about this being for Varian’s sake and how even if it hurt him, it was ultimately to save his life. Thankfully Rapunzel seemed to understand, Cassandra thought as she ascended the stairs. In the events of the last week or so, she had come to listen to reason a lot better. Cassandra would have thought she’d be relieved by that, but something was sour about it, knowing how much stress had dulled her affect. She would have rather seen her friend lively enough to argue on the best courses of treatment than passively let it go out of exhaustion.

Nevertheless, Cassandra was in front of Varian’s bedroom door now. Thinking of it like a battle in which she would only lose if she showed hesitation, she entered and closed the door behind her, and heard it shut all too crystal clear. It sounded like a cage shutting, and with a suspicious vial she was approaching some poor, abused lab subject. Gertrud saw the apprehension across her face and gave a disapproving tsk.

“Not you, too. You can’t have that attitude when you’re treating a patient, you understand? You can either do what you need to do swiftly and surely, or kiss his forehead until he passes. Rather a body in pain than a body in rigor mortis, I always say.”

“You talk  _ way _ too much,” Cassandra grumbled. “So, what’s the plan? Wake him up, shove a vial of goop down his throat and watch him scream?”

Gertrud hummed  _ yes _ and put on a pair of gloves with a tight snap.

“What are those for?”

“In case he chokes on his vomit and I have to go fishing. Although I don’t assume he’s been eating too many solids in his state; you can never be too sure with the wonders of the digestive system.”

Cassandra felt herself start to gag. She stared out the window to ease herself, then asked, “Could I just have a moment with him? Before we hold him down and traumatize him more than he already is?”

“Two minutes,” answered Gertrud. “Just remember, the more you coddle him like a child, the more he’ll react like one.”

She had her point, Cassandra thought, and she was even inclined to agree, but Varian  _ was _ still a boy. Up until now she had believed the same as Gertrud, that if she treated him like a sensible adult she would get a sensible adult’s reaction, but he was a boy after all and she had done nothing but stress him into a worse condition. Cassandra kept her dissent to herself, and prepared to wake Varian up.

She took a deep breath, then gently shook Varian’s shoulder. It took him a bit for his sight to adjust, but when it did, he shut his eyes again and whimpered. He seemed to believe that if he didn’t see Cassandra, she would go away. But in place of sight, he heard her voice calling his name, mildly and without resentment. He gave her one glance and turned away, slowly and without much coordination.

“Don’t be scared,” Cassandra said, and tried her best not to let it sound like a command. “It’s okay.”

Eyes screwed shut, Varian’s mouth twitched with the urge to speak and came up with all but unimpressive rasps, a single squeak at best. With his uninjured hand, he squeezed and released the quilt draped over his chest, the stench of perspiration and general illness overpowering that of fresh linen. Cassandra didn’t like it. She didn’t like being here, and she didn’t like what she knew she would have to do next.

If her discomfort  _ could _ be eased with an apology, now was the time to try it.

“...I’m sor—“

“ _ I’m sorry, _ ” Varian pushed the words from his lips like a boulder up a mountain. “Cassandra…So sorry…”

“Stop that!” Cassandra rubbed her forearm,  shivering. “Don't apologize. You don’t have to.”

“Sorry…’m sorry…”

He looked to be in a trance; whether he was even listening to Cassandra was unsure. Burned up by this, Cassandra let go of a flustered growl and patted the corner of his pillow to get his attention.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize, okay? I shouldn’t have gotten so impatient with you from the beginning. And I shouldn’t be… _ being _ impatient with you right now. I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t unwilling to be convinced, but Varian could not be reached. A jolt of pain across his ribs pushed the tiniest of whines from him, pitchy and frightened as another wave of heat flushed his skin. Amidst the aches and flashes and the pounding of his head, words were lost on him. He may as well have been trying to make sense of bees buzzing.

So, Cassandra stopped speaking. Instead she planted her hand on Varian’s forehead, and when he didn’t break like a porcelain doll under the simplest touch, she shifted each piece of his hair strand by strand from his eyes. His breathing mellowed, if only for a second.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“S’okay…” Varian replied drowsily. 

“I’m sorry,” Cassandra straightened her shoulders, “But we’re going to remove the poison from your body, and it’s not gonna be—“

Gertrud cut a hand in front of Cassandra’s face, silencing her.

“Here,” the doctor said, passing Varian the opened vial like it was as inconspicuous as fruit juice. “It’s chocolatey. You’ll like it.”

Cassandra was stunned by Gertrud’s ability to lie so effortlessly. Certainly underground doctors weren’t obligated to show the same saccharine concern as formally employed doctors, but  _ still _ . She wondered which was ultimately better in the end, to be honest and end up scaring him out of taking the antidote of his own free will, or to deceive him and at least make the process of ingesting it easier. She decided that she was in the fortunate position of not having to say anything at all, and would be content to never find herself in this position again.

It did taste like chocolate. The antidote melted sweetly on his tongue, and there he felt a peculiar numbing sensation. He hadn’t noticed the way that Cassandra was staring at him expectantly, or how the doctor was arranging an empty bucket by the side of his bed. All he noticed was his chest getting warm, and found it to be quite a relief to all the soreness it had been under.

And then it kept getting warmer, and warmer…And hotter, and hotter…

“Cassandra,” Varian spoke nervously, raising his hand from his side.

“ _ Don’t let him touch his chest _ ,” Gertrud ordered. Cassandra took Varian’s hand and held it tight, feeling how shaky and clammy his palm was. 

“It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.  _ Right? _ ”

“Who can say?” Gertrud sighed. “Ten minutes is soon to you and me. To him, now—“

“ _ Cassandra…? _ ” Varian’s eyes were huge with panic. His injured hand too came up above his waist, but Cassandra pushed it back down gently.

“You’re gonna be okay. Just—you’re gonna be okay.”

An endless series of flames unfurled like a blossom underneath his breastbone, and yet he could feel it take form and push,  _ sharply _ , as though it wanted to break free through his skin. Sweat soaked his pillow and stuck his bangs to his forehead, the tiny hairs of his arms raised with goosebumps as he shifted uncomfortably and began to breathe heavy. He pulled both of his arms, but Cassandra held them down firmly by his sides, to which he responded unintentionally by kicking her in the stomach. It wasn’t nearly a strong blow to someone of her fortitude, but she was amazed considering how weakened he was supposed to be. Power like that could only be drawn from desperation, and he was desperate. He was extremely desperate.

The flames fanned out and burrowed into his organs; his lungs, his heart, each aorta. He wanted to dig them out. He wanted to claw his skin and take the  _ burning _ out, but Cassandra wouldn’t budge, and it only got hotter and hotter, climbing up his throat…

* * *

Outside in the front of Varian’s house, Eugene and Rapunzel waited. 

Seven minutes having passed, Rapunzel suggested, “It might be over now. Maybe we should go back inside?” She didn’t know why Eugene shook his head, but seconds later, she understood.

Muffled behind the window pane to his bedroom, Varian’s wild, agonized screams began.


	8. Turning the Next Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnngh i'm so sorry i promised this would be out before christmas and it's two months later ; ; but here it is, the final chapter for our poor suffering boy! thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed <3

“What is she _doing_ to him?”

Rapunzel had halfway made it back up the stairs to the front door when Eugene caught her delicately by her wrist. His eyes told of something he knew and she didn’t, something that was troubling him deeply. 

“Rapunzel,” He let go of her, keeping his open palm outstretched to implore her. “He’s okay. The antidote is working.”

“How do you know so much about it? Have you met her before?” Rapunzel asked.

“No,” Eugene admitted, “But I know how the antidote works. I’ve taken it before.”

“What?” She hesitantly descended to the middle step, but moved no further. She was torn between the conflicted Eugene in front of her, and the screaming from Varian inside his house. “When?”

“It was six years ago. I don’t remember much…“ Eugene scratched his arm uncomfortably, an awful heat tingling under his skin at the memory. “I got bit by this venomous snake while Lance and I were on the job, and I was fading fast. He took me to a medic we knew, and that was when…“

“ _We’ll give you rubies, emeralds, anything you want,” Lance pleaded, “The clothes off our backs, just do_ somethin’ _for him. What…What’s that…?”_

_“This will do. Stand back,” hissed a long-bearded man in longer white robes, “And don’t interfere.”_

_Eugene couldn’t see the medic’s face from where he lay on his dining room table, which had been repurposed into an examination table for wounded thugs and thieves that weren’t heavy enough to break it. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes. He could only feel, and all he felt was pain. The swelling of his neck, the pounding in his head…Before he knew it his jaw was being pulled open, and a cold glass vial was shoved into his mouth. A sweet, silky substance with a note of chocolate slid down his throat and from there, warmth began to flood his chest._

_“This is an antidote of my own design. It acts similarly to antibodies—it neutralizes toxins by binding to them, and disposing of them.”_

_A low groan came from Eugene, who was starting to tug at his vest. Lance regarded the medic with concerned wide eyes._

_“The problem lies in the process of disposal. The ‘antibodies,’ if you will, must destroy their bonds by essentially eating themselves. That process can create a sensation of intense burning in the chest.”_

_“Like heartburn?”_

_“Oho, my dear child. No,” the medic replied, “No, this is something much more…”_

_“Ah—Aghh—Aughh!”_

_Eugene was shouting loudly now, breathing heavily at a rampant pace. It felt as though a match had been lit inside of both his lungs. The hand that was pulling at his vest began to claw through his undershirt and into his skin, desperate to somehow make the burning stop. Unbothered, the doctor forced his hands to his sides as his legs kicked out wildly._

_“Oh, man…” Lance gulped. “He’s gonna be okay, right?”_

_“Of course he will. Give it another ten minutes and the side effects will subside. He may experience intense chills, but the venom shall no longer pose any danger. Now, about your payment. Rubies, you said…?”_

“You know, I think it’s a professional requirement for doctors to not have very nice personalities,” Eugene mused. “Would you believe after all that, Lance still ran without paying the guy a dime?”

“Wow…Were you okay?”

“I don’t know. I think all my limbs are still intact. Can you check?”

“Oh, right.” Rapunzel giggled. She opened her mouth to ask him something else, but a particularly agonized scream from Varian silenced her. Imagining the suffering he was going through, especially the way that Eugene had described it, and knowing she could do nothing but wish for it to end soon was a harsh reality that shook her to her core. Shivering, she reached for Eugene’s hand and Eugene hugged her close, muffling her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear it.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on top of her hair. “He’s going to be okay...I hope…”

* * *

Varian was howling in pain. His screams were cut off as he choked and gasped for air, trying in endless fervor to arch away from the flames curling under his ribs.

“Make…” he panted, gagging after sucking in too much air, “Make it stop…”

Cassandra continued to stroke his hair without a word. Close to him, the candlestick that brought the bedroom light seemed to taunt him, flickering in tandem with each searing ache and dripping wax to mock his tears. The vision of being melted inside out caused him to heave.

The force of being turned onto his side alone brought upon Varian a sickening throb of whiplash. His stomach lurched, and finally the last remaining broken bits of his voice spilled out of him with his vomit. He couldn’t even groan as Cassandra awkwardly patted his back a little too hard, which only encouraged him into another bout of dry heaving.

Gertrud whisked the used bucket out of the way to be disposed of later, and found herself unamused by the quirks of her patient’s bedroom. Varian had things scattered about on the floor unlike any ordinary teenage boy; the heels of her boots kept catching onto stray wires that connected to who knows what, and she nearly lost her balance tripping over some unidentifiable metal doohickey on wheels that resembled two toy cars fused together. She swore if she spilled the bucket on herself, she would kill him faster than any poison could.

“ _Help—*_

The voice was not Varian’s, but Cassandra’s. Varian was squeezing her hand with his other over his chest, his jaw hung open and his eyes wide with terror. His breathing had stopped. Cassandra hit him on the back repeatedly, convinced he was choking, but nothing would come out.

“ _Enough,_ ” said Gertrud, “you’re going to beat the poor thing to death. It’s just a spasm.” She set the bucket down and took care not to trip as she came to Varian’s side and rolled him onto his back again. She had just started to rub his chest when his clammy, trembling hand limply grasped her wrist, and in his eyes she saw a boy scared for his life, begging her to do something. Dots of petechiae erupted over his beet red cheeks, sweat pasting his hair to his skin—she had seen worse, but Varian had not, and she knew he was terrified of what was happening to him. She continued to rub in a soft, circular motion over his breastbone, speaking not a word until she could hear him inhale, feeble a breath as it was.

“That’s it. See? You’re in good hands.”

Varian closed his eyes for a long moment, and Cassandra could imagine he was whimpering with the voice he’d lost. All he could register was the pressure to his chest, and faintly, the smell of latex gloves.

The burning began to dissipate. Varian poured what little energy he had left into his next few breaths when he found that each inhale was like an icy wind, chilling him to the bone. Against the odds, he was suddenly cold. He screwed his eyes shut and began to shiver, wondering if it was all just one big cruel joke played by his own body that he kept discovering new ways to hurt. After one pitiful glance in Cassandra’s direction, she took a long blanket that had been sitting on Varian’s floor and jumped dutifully into his bed, draping it around his shoulders. She pulled Varian in close to her, and once he had been safely tucked into a little blanket burrito, she could feel his tremors begin to ease.

“Good thinking,” chimed Gertrud, “A little body heat will help him sweat that fever right out. Now, boy…”

Through his dulled, overworked senses, Varian felt Gertrud straighten the duvet over him and give it a firm pat. “You need a good sleep. Your friend warned me that you’ve been sneaking off left and right when our backs are turned. That’s not going to happen, right?”

Varian mumbled a soft sound that resembled a “Yes, ma’am.”

“We’re not going to make poor old Madame Gertrud search high and low for you with her bad back, right? You’re going to stay put and get some rest _._ ”

Before she finished talking, Varian was already dozing off, his head nodding before he finally let it drop. Cassandra shifted so that he could lie down properly and shed the duvet from her shoulders so that it could cover him properly.

“That’s what I like to hear. Swordy-pants? Be a dear and go dump that bucket for me, will you? Don’t look so enthused. I’m promoting you to my temporary medical assistant!”

“What an honor,” sighed Cassandra, giving Varian one last pat to his hair before grabbing the bucket.

* * *

Varian woke to the sound of gentle rain, crickets, and giggling. He felt buried ten layers deep under his blankets, like he was staring up into the darkness from a hole in the earth as laughter clouded into a heavy mist above. Voices he knew but couldn’t make out rang from no comprehensible direction, just bouncing around in the air. As his blanket slipped off his exposed shoulder, he shivered and wiggled back underneath the covers, finding it wasn’t _as_ painful as he remembered to move. He was still quite sore.

“It’s…good!” a light, sweet but strained voice whispered from the foot of his bed. “Who’s that breathing fire? Oh, that’s…”

“ _Not_ funny.”

“I took artistic liberties. Something _you_ wouldn’t know about,” said a voice who wasn’t even bothering to whisper. “Do you have something better?”

“I don’t draw.”

“Aw, c’mon, Cass. Everybody’s got that artistic fire inside of them! You just have to listen to your heart and let your hand do the work. What is your heart telling you?”

“That there is no way this is going to help Varian free his dad.”

Varian’s eyes flashed at Cassandra’s voice. It must have taken a full minute, but he sat up like he was rising through mud and rested his full weight against the backboard to his bed, coughing lightly. There was a click, and suddenly his vision was flooded by lamplight.

“You’re awake! How do you feel? Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. You should rest your throat. Is your throat hurting at all?”

Rapunzel’s face was glowing an inch away from his, and behind her he could fuzzily make out Eugene, Cassandra and Madame Gertrud.

“...Nn.”

He cleared his throat. His voice was thick, but it was there. “No,” he murmured, “Not that bad. I’m okay.”

“Let’s see what the vitals have to say about that.”

Varian wasn’t sure what the doctor meant, but she touched her hand to his forehead, wrist and under his chin with care, then pressed something metal and cold to his chest. He jumped. It occurred to him distantly that she was using a stethoscope, but by the time he put that much together she was already setting the tool back into her briefcase.

“Any pain or discomfort anywhere?”

“Uhhh…” He wasn’t sure ‘everywhere’ was a good answer, so he shook his head.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three—What were you guys talking about? What about my dad?”

Rapunzel beamed and unfolded in front of his still stinging eyes a blue sheet of graph paper. On it, a skillfully designed but admittedly unfitting drawing had been sketched onto it, with flowers and sunny embellishments in all its Rapunzel flare. The drawing showed herself, Eugene and Cassandra all handy with frying pans and beating the amber encasement holding Varian’s father in order to set him free. According to the drawing it was working, as Quirin’s head was sticking out with a smile and Varian was drawn in by his side, overjoyed. Varian—the real one—gave Rapunzel a curious look.

“We’ve been taking turns drawing blueprints to help your father,” Rapunzel explained. “Well, that’s how it started, anyways, but it kiiinda turned into an art contest…”

“I’m not saying mine is the best, I’m just saying that it’s better than everyone else’s,” boasted Eugene. He, too, had a scrap of blueprint paper onto which a bunch of crudely drawn stick figures had been scribbled. From what Varian could glean, Rapunzel was crying over the encasement, and from her teardrops a bunch of squiggly lines with flower patterns had been drawn to show they were somehow melting the amber away with magical powers. Eugene and Varian were giving each other a thumbs up (or the middle finger, he was only going by context since the drawing was unclear,) and Cassandra was up in the top corner above everyone with snakes for hair and breathing fire. Eugene was already defending himself before anyone could say anything, shrugging, “It worked for me.”

Even Gertrud had a paper over her lap. She didn’t say anything about it, but Varian could see herself drawn standing atop stacks of cash with Queen Arianna and King Frederick applauding her, and Rapunzel, Eugene and Cassandra showering her with even more money. There was a tiny little happy face with sparkles on each side in the corner that Varian assumed was him. He looked back at Rapunzel, even more confused than before he had asked.

“You’ve been out for almost two days, so we wanted to do what we could in the meantime,” said Rapunzel. “Cass had some pretty good ideas too, but she threw them away. Most of them involved swords.”

“Oh, I particularly liked the one that involved me falling on my own sword and dying,” chimed Eugene.

“I liked that one too,” Cassandra growled.

“You guys... “

Varian sat speechless for a moment, then his shoulders began to shake. He hunched over, his hand over his mouth as he seemed to be choking something back.

“Are you okay?” asked Rapunzel. She leaned over to pat his back, her eyes shining with worry. “Do you need some water?”

Varian busted out laughing. He wiped tears from his eyes, his chest heaving with giggles that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried. And he was trying; he was feeling the best he had in days, but that still wasn’t very good. His bones ached with each exhale, and he was coughing more than he was laughing, but he barely noticed it over his mirth.

“You guys,” he panted, worn out from the short bout of laughter already. “Oh, man... You guys are awesome.”

Eugene took a seat on his bed, flashing him a warm grin. “ _Team_ Awesome. We’ve been missing our favorite member.”

Varian’s bedroom, which had held nothing but gloom for the last eternity it felt like, was filled with peace and light at last, the brightest of all coming unsurprisingly from Rapunzel. She was brimming with joy, and Varian noticed she looked at least a bit less exhausted than he remembered. If he had been asleep for over a day, he could imagine she had finally gotten the chance to rest as well.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said. “I’m so, so glad... “

“Don’t think you’re gonna be getting out of bed dancing jigs just yet,” Gertrud warned him. “That wasn’t a miracle potion you took. Hydration and bed rest, those are gonna be your best friends for the next few days.” She took a long look at the trio huddled around Varian’s bedside, and added with a hint of amusement, “Maybe not _best_.”

Cassandra clapped Varian over the shoulder way too softly, like she was learning for the first time how to not hit someone. Actually, “like” might not even have been necessary.

“Hang in there, kid,” she said. “We’ll get your father out of there in no time. We have to take care of you first.”

Varian smiled up at her, and though still weak and uncoordinated, gave her a small hug. “Thanks,” he said, “Really...Thank you.”

“Now!” Eugene clapped his hands together as he rose from his stool, “Where were we? Page 193? Flynn Ryder and the Duke’s daughter declare their forbidden love for each other at the winter banquet?”

“Oh, I hated that part,” Gertrud complained. “Those two had no chemistry.”

“You read the book?!” exclaimed Eugene and Varian in unison.

“I have the whole series in my library. What, an old woman can’t enjoy good literature?”

Rapunzel and Cassandra looked at each other, not understanding a single word they were on about, but laughing along anyway. Whatever it was, they seemed to be pretty enthused.

“Mind if we join in?” asked Rapunzel, followed by a not wholly committed groan from Cassandra.

“Perfect, you can be the Duke’s daughter! Cassandra can be...Hmm, how does the cold, unfeeling mercenary sound?”

“Perfect,” Cassandra smirked back at Eugene.

“I’ll be the fruit vendor,” said Gertrud.

“Doesn’t he only have one line?” Eugene asked.

“I like his spunk.”

As the four chattered amongst themselves, Varian sank back into his pillow with a grin that did not falter. He was exhausted, he ached, he was worried...but he was content. Enough to rest for a bit more, anyways. He would let them finish the book, silly voices and all, and drink and sleep as he was told--anything to avoid being dosed by that antidote again. And when he got all better, he would have three friends to help him free his father together. He wouldn’t have to be alone. He couldn’t do it by himself, after all, he knew that now. Maybe their “blueprints” weren’t the most helpful ideas he’d heard of, but with their support, he could do anything. He closed his eyes to the sound of Cassandra putting on a deep voice for her role and Rapunzel going way off script, and to the sound of own inner thoughts telling himself,

_We can do this._


End file.
